Freak is an Ugly Word
by toturequeen06
Summary: Princess is a prostitute. A slave to the mob. She would do anything to get out. Joker offers her that chance. She takes it knowing nothing about the man. What will happen to her?
1. Joys of Life

Princess limped down the lamp lit street in her thigh high black leather boots. Her dark brown hair in a ponytail high on the back of her head swayed with each gimp. She had just been thrown from a car. Again. It had to be the third time this week. She had landed on her knees and hands scrapping them not having a sufficient amount of clothing on. Just a black mini skirt that barely covered anything and a red spaghetti strap shirt. She sighed. It had been the same man each and every time. That was his usual farewell; throw her from his moving vehicle over a block from where she had to return to. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered with him, but then she remembers. He pays and she was not allowed to refuse a job. So goes the life of a prostitute. Well, at least her life. Compared to her, the other prostitutes that walked the streets were lucky, they had some freedom. She did not. She had been forced on the streets at an early age. Her prick of a father had owed the mob money. Instead paying them off, he gave him her to work off the debt. The prick had his son and could care less what happened to her.

That had been five years ago, and here she was, limping down the deserted street to her spot. Her dirty dingy spot in the Narrows. She was not considered good enough or good looking enough to go into the higher end parts of Gotham. So, she was forced to stay in the worst neighborhood. It was only logical that the mob would keep her in the lowliest of low. That way she could not earn the sufficient amount of money to expunge the prick's debt and would be forever enslaved to them. That's all she was a slave. Her lot in life. It was not a lot, but it was her life. The only life she now knew.

Ironic how her nickname was Princess. Princesses were supposed to have slaves, not be one. The nickname had not been her choice, but that of Croc's. He had dubbed her that a few years ago. It had stuck and now everyone called her that, though sometimes it was said in sarcasm. That was fine with her. Princess was more pleasing to her ears than her actual name.

Croc was one of the few that were nice to her. He was an overly large man, almost seven feet tall, and bulk to match. Nothing but muscle. His skin was scaly and rough due to a skin disease he had been born with. That had been what earned him the nickname Croc, and the abandonment from his parents. Because of the disease he had not a single hair on his body, a fact Princess noted. Born Waylon Jones, now Croc or Killer Croc to some. If it had not been for his skin ailment, he would have just been a normal dark skinned male. But, as it were, he could not be that lucky.

Croc was a very kind and gentle person, to those that were lucky. He worked for the mob because he had no other option. He was not like Princess, a slave, but no one would hire someone who looked like him. Even factories had turned the man down. Princess hated the fact that he worked for the scoundrels that held her freedom, but understood his reasoning. People need money in order to survive, a fact she knew well, so she could not begrudge the man on it. Money made the world go round.

Princess loved Croc dearly and would do anything for him. But she could not find it in herself to be _in_ love with him. He held a special place in her heart, but not _the_ special place. No one would be able to hold that place. There was not one person she would allow herself to fall in love with. She did not believe in love. Love was just a fairy tale, and she lived in reality. A nightmarish hell of a reality.

"Princess!" her dearest friend Selina called out to her. Selina was another prostitute and the first to try and befriend her. She ran to her side and helped the limping woman to the wall. The bright green eyes of hers glittered with concern. Since the woman was a few years older, she took care of Princess as much as possible. Treated her as a sister. Princess loved the woman. There was nothing she would not do for her. "That fucking asshole threw you out of the car again." A nod was the only response Selina got. "I should have known!" she screamed. "I saw him speeding by." A sigh escaped her lips. "Croc's not going to like this."

Selina Kyle, her better half as Princess liked to call her, was not just her dearest friend, but her only one besides Croc and Selina's sister Holly. She was a good five-five in height even without the heels, with an athletic build of a body. She had ebony colored hair that was cut short a chunk of it covering her right eye. As was the usual attire of a prostitute, she wore a black leather mini skirt that barely covered her assets and a black tube top shirt. Princess had chosen a spaghetti strapped shirt over one of those. She did not like the idea that a random person could come up and pull her top down. Selina's features were angular and much like a cat's. The fact that she had emerald colored eyes made her appear even more cat like. Selina was even attracted to things that glittered.

"That's why you're not going to tell him," hissed Princess. "That's the last thing he needs, add another body to his count." Croc had anger management problems and did not know his own strength in times of high fury. He had killed several men before with just a single well placed blow to the head. Princess had been present for a few of them. She was never one to be squeamish and had seen death several times before. Death worse and bloodier than what Croc had done.

Selina sighed. "You're right, but how are you gonna explain what happened to him? You do live with him."

"I'll tell him I fell. It's the same excuse I use every time." Croc was not the brightest of men, and it was easy to lie to him. Princess hated to do it, especially to him, but she was protecting him. She would not take the chance of losing him just because he killed some prick over her. She was not worth him being sent to Arkham for the hundredth time.

"And he believes you every time." Selina shook her head. "To him, you can do no wrong. He really loves you, ya know? Can't you find it in yourself to love him back?"

Princess shook her head. "No. I don't think I could love anyone. Don't even think I know what it is."

Selina set her against a brick wall close to their shared spot. The spot could not be called a corner; it was just a random place close to the street. Princess thankfully leaned against it. "Honey," Selina said staring her in the eyes. The woman's green eyes were a great contrast compared to Princess' grey ones. "That has to be the saddest thing I eva heard."

Princess did not answer, just leaned her head against the wall and looked into the late night sky. No stars could be seen from where she stood. Understandable. Heavy smog forever hung over the Narrows and the city lights blacked out the ones that would have dared to shine too brightly. Gotham City consumed everything within its grasp. Even the surrounding cities seemed to be dissolving into nothingness as Gotham slowly ate away at them. Gotham was cancer. Nothing but a parasite that could not be rid of. A city so corrupt that even its inhabitants had turned their backs on it. All except one. The Batman.

Princess had not had the pleasure of meeting the man, nor did she want it. What the hell could he do to help her? In one word, nothing. Her current predicament was not one that she could be rescued from. The only thing he could do was stop someone from beating her, but then there would just be another to replace that one and one to replace that one. So was the circle of her life. Sex, drugs, and an endless stream of beatings. There were very few that did not hit her, but she did not see them for long. The mob took care of that. For some reason they saw it fit to punish her by giving her the most violent customers they could dig up. A punishment for something she had not done herself.

"Princess!" a male voice screamed. Torn from her thoughts, Princess looked to the man. It was Bob. A tall muscular man with blond hair cropped short to his head and bright blue eyes wearing his signature white wife beater, faded out jeans, and tennis shoes that were now grey instead of their once brilliant white. He happened to be one of her pimps. To keep things fair, the mob switched pimps every week. There were a total of three of them. Bob, Mike, and the jerk off Andy.

Out of the three, Bob was the nicest. Never once had he hit any of the girls, and did everything he could to make them happy. Mike, a very tall dark skinned male with black eyes and not a spot of hair on his head, could go either way. He only punished the women if they, in his mind, deserved it. Andy a fake tanned male with dark hair and hazel eyes was the worst. At least the worst to Princess. For some reason or another, he hated her. Beat her without cause, took every chance he could to rape her, and gave her the worst possible jobs. Even refused to pay her the part of the money she had earned. During the week he was in rule, Princess would go hungry. That was, until Croc decided to move in with her. Now, there was not a day she starved.

Though Croc was not physically appealing, he was the sweetest man Princess had ever known. She felt bad that she could not find it in herself to love him. He had been nothing but kind to her since day one when the mob threw her into his arms. Another detail of her job was to make sure the henchmen stayed happy. At first, he had refused for the fact that she was underage. Every time he had sent her back, someone would beat her. It had taken some convincing from Selina for him to take her. That time was spent talking in the dark, Croc still unwilling to touch a minor. It had been three years ago that they had met, and it was not until up to a year ago that they had finally done more than talk.

"What?" Princess shouted pushing herself away from the wall. "Oh, let me guess, I have another customer."

Finally in front of her, Bob towered over her. "Don't get that tone with me missy, or I might just have to pinch those cute cheeks of yours." That statement was accompanied by a pinch on her left cheek. Princess rolled her eyes. That was Bob, always the jokester. It was a surprise that he was still in the business, but he made the girls happy. When the girls were happy, stuff got done, and money was earned. "And yeah, you have another customer. This will be your last of the night. So, just go home afterwards."

"What 'bout the money?" inquired Princess, which reminded her. She pulled out a wad of cash from her bra and handed it over to Bob.

Bob took the money and pocketed it. "He's already paid for." Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he led her down the street. "He's at Bib's waitin' for ya." Bib's was a hotel that was where their main source of business went. The hotel was cheap, dirty, and rough looking. Perfect for the scum of Gotham to go for their pleasure. Fit well with the slum around it as well. It was run by a fat old balding man nicknamed Bib. Princess did not know his real name or where the nickname had came from, and frankly, she did not want to know.

Bib allowed them to use his place for a few reason. The main being he was allotted to keep a small percentage of the earnings. Another reason was he used to work for the mob. In his earlier years, the man had been henchmen turned pimp, and happened to be Princess' first pimp before he retired. Now, he just ran a slummy hotel as a front to the mob's prostitution ring. Said that he liked it that way. He could still keep an eye on the girls, and kept a part of his old life with him. Once a mobster, always a mobster. No one truly left that part of them behind.

'Why ya limpin' Princess?" Bob asked her as they walked together.

"Got thrown outta car again."

Bob grunted. "Fuckin' bastard. I oughta kill Andy for that. I just know that it was him that had that guy come for ya. Andy's had it out for ya since day one."

"It's probably 'cause my dad's a cop. I don't know why he's taken it out on me though, the prick didn't give a shit about me. Andy ain't hurtin' him by hurtin' me."

"Yeah, well, Andy ain't no better. He's a prick. Worst if I've eva seen one. Surprised Croc hadn't killed him by now."

"He's tried a few times, but, for some reason, people keep stoppin' him."

A few feet before the hotel, Bob stopped and forced Princess to do so as well. "I want you to be careful with this guy. He asked specifically for you and that usually means it's one of Andy's boys." He shook his head. "I don't see Andy hangin' out with this guy, though. He's a freak."

Princess' eyes narrowed. "Freak is an ugly word, and one you know I don't like."

"Sorry, I just couldn't think of another way to describe him. He gave me the creeps. Just the way he talked was bone chillin'. All high pitched and whiney. Don't like it. Gives me a bad feelin'."

She shook her head. Light reflected off of her long dangling silver earrings making it dance in the night. "You're such a pussy, Bob. I'm goin' now so that I can get home." Turning, she walked away giving him a backward wave.

As she opened the door to Bib's harsh bright light hit her eyes forcing her to squint. "'Evenin' Princess," Bib's deep voice called to her.

Her eyes adjusted to the light and she walked toward the man who sat behind his desk. "Hey Bib." She rested her right elbow on the nearly chest high desk and her chin found its place in the cup of her hand. "What room am I in?"

"Ten." Reaching behind the desk he pulled out the designated key to the room with a dull red key tag.

Princess looked at it in confusion. "Why you handin' me this, isn't he already in the room?"

"Nope. Said he had to step out for a minute, but he'll be back. Wants you in the room waitin' for him."

A sigh escaped her lips. "One of those then." This was not the first time that happened. A lot of the men liked having the girls waiting for them in the room, naked and ready. Made them feel all the more wanted and powerful. Men had one complex after the next. During her five years of forced prostitution, Princess had witnessed several of them in all shapes and sizes.

"How's Croc?" asked Bib trying to strike up a conversation. "Haven't seen him in a dog's age."

"He's good, I guess. He seems happy enough."

"Heard he pummeled Andy earlier this evenin'."

Why was she not surprised? Andy was a prick and always had his mouth running. The vile things he said got him into trouble a lot. Croc hated the man and took every chance he could at beating him into a pulp. It happened nearly every week. "I take it he didn't kill the bastard?"

"Naw, fight got stopped before then."

"Damn."

"You're tellin' me, hun, you're tellin' me. The world would be much better if he wasn' in it." No one liked Andy. If he ever turned up missing, not a single person would miss him. Most would smile in glee. The girls would be a lot happier. All but one, but she was not important. Just some blond bimbo that thought she was better than everyone in the world. Thought he shit didn't stink. "He's in the hospital though. Might be in there for a while."

A smile cracked Princess' face. "Good, maybe I won't see him for a while. Might teach him to keep his dirty mouth shut. Well, I'll be goin' then. Talk to ya later." Bib just waved her away with a shooing motion.

Walking up the single flight of stairs, Princess made her way to the room. After many visits to the place, she knew exactly where she was going. It would not have been hard to find anyways. The hotel was small, and there was only so far a person could go in either direction. Room ten happened to be the last room on the right.

Passing a few rooms in the dimly lit hallway, she could hear muffled moans coming from behind the dark stained wooden doors. All fake moans of course. Princess could almost match each moan with a face. She probably could if she listened hard enough. That was not what was on her mind though. Getting to the room was all that mattered at the moment. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could go back home. Home sounded really good. Being exhausted, all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep. But first, she had a job to take care of.

Princess made it to room ten and popped the key into the key hole. With a twist, it unlocked the door; she turned the handle and entered. She tossed the key on the table that was just out of reach of the door on the left side of the room and flipped on the lights.

The table was a light colored wood and came up to her hips. Three chairs surrounded it. There had been a fourth chair, but a customer had gotten really rowdy and busted it against her back. She had been sent to the hospital because of it. Broke three of her ribs. That man was now dead. Croc had gotten a hold of him and the rest was history. Because of the murder, Croc had spent a month in Arkham before they release him on good behavior. The jury had not been harsh considering the man had not meant to kill him.

Nothing had changed since she had last been in there. The carpet was still a dirty brown color with interesting stains in random places. The once white walls were a sickly yellow color stained from the years of nicotine. Touching the walls would leave a slimy sticky residue on the hands. A plain bed adorned with two flat pillows and a thin orange cover sat against the wall on the right.

On top of the bed sat a piece of paper. Princess walked over and picked it up. It was a note. The words were in scratchy handwriting but were perfectly legible.

_Take a shower, I like my women clean._

Princess scoffed and crinkled up the piece of paper. As she headed into the bathroom she stripped and tossed the note in the small waste bin leaning against the wall. When in the bathroom, she removed her long dangling earrings and her ponytail. When not put up, Princess' hair reached the tip of her butt. She could not wait to chop it all off. Hated it. She was forced to keep her hair long so that the men had something to hold on to. Not the most comforting reason to keep her hair long. She wasted no time and jumped in the shower immediately after she turned on the water. It was cold at first, but then quickly grew hot.

The now steaming water cascaded down her body turning her nearly waist length dark brown hair an even darker shade. As the water fell, so did her makeup. That was something she was glad to be rid of. She may be a whore, but that did not mean she had to look the part as well. She felt simple black eyeliner would do that trick, but it was not her choice. Nothing ever was. The water was turned grey from the globs of mascara that were placed on her eyelashes. She watched it as it slowly circled the drain, and did so until the water was clear. Then, she cleaned herself up.

After she was done cleaning herself up, Princess jumped out of the shower, taking care to turn the water off. From the towel rack screwed to the wall she grabbed the single towel hanging off of it. By the looks of it, the towels were the most expensive things in the hotel. White, fluffy, and from the smell of them, freshly cleaned.

Firmly she wrapped the towel around her, not bothering to dry off. She started to leave the bathroom, and everything went dark.


	2. In the Darkness

Typical. Just typical. Princess had known something like this would happen. Every few weeks the power in the Narrows went out. It was just something that happened. The norm for the scourge of the city. Only problem was, when it was dark in the Narrows, it was _dark_. Not even the moon could provide them with any ray of light. The darkness was so thick it would consume any light that dared to shine upon it.

She felt her way out of the bathroom, bumping into a few object along the way. Once she was out, she moved to the middle of the room and stood still. She knew the layout of the room very well, but in the pitch black it all seemed different. The one thing she noticed was the curtains were shut. They had not been when she had first entered the bathroom. With her foot she felt around the floor. Her clothes were no where to be found as well. That could only mean one thing, her customer was somewhere in the room. Too bad she could not see him.

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, listening for any sounds. Nothing. Only the noises coming from the streets and the room next door. Now, this upset her. Princess took pride in her acute hearing, so her not hearing anything put a damper on that.

An arm snaked its way around her waist and she let out a small yip in fright. Her heart rate instantly increased. The man giggled at her reaction. "Aw, did I scare you, Princess?" His voice was nasally, whiny, high pitched, yet somehow still manly. It sent shivers up Princess' spine.

"What did you expect to happen when you snuck up behind me in the dark?" she asked darkly. Mentally she slapped herself. This was a customer; she could not react harshly to them.

"Feisty, aren't we. I like that."

"What else do you like?" Princess seductively asked. She could admit, seducing was not her strong suit and did not try it very often. Just let them do their business and pay her. That's all that really mattered. Money.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." That earned a roll of the eyes from Princess. "Don't roll your eyes at me," he hissed.

"Do ya have night vision or somethin'?"

"Nope, just ate my carrots as a kid. Now, don't move, this will hurt for only a second." He moved his hand from her waist to her neck. Not squeezing, but just barely holding it. His hands were rough and callused. She liked that. Only women should have smooth skin. Men were meant to be rough and ragged.

Princess' heart started to race. Her breathing quickened. For once, she cursed the dark. Not being able to see what this man was doing let her imagination run wild. There were just so many possibilities, all of them more horrific than the first. Then she felt cold metal bite into her flesh.

"He's another thing I like, knives." Ever so slowly he drug the knife down, making a small incision on her shoulder blade and warm blood trickled from it.

Surprising herself, Princess moaned in actual pleasure. That had been the first time someone had used knife play on her. The others usually just beat her. But that, that sensation was quite different than the rest. It hurt, but it hurt so good. Her back arched and she felt herself become wet. One of the rare moments of actual arousal.

"Sounds like someone likes pain. My kinda girl," he stated huskily in her ear.

He pushed her forward, bending her at the waist his hand still holding her neck. When his tongue came into contact with the cut she inhaled sharply and goosebumps erupted across her flesh. After he had licked the line of blood from the cut, he bit down on it and started to suck harshly. It was as if he were trying to drink her dry.

Princess' knees became weak and she nearly fell. He held her in place by wrapping his free hand, knife seemingly disappeared. She wanted to scream, beg him to stop. The pleasure of it was just too much, and pleasure was something she was not used to. On second part, she did not want him to stop. She wanted this moment to last forever. Stay forever in the blissful pleasure she was feeling.

Sadly, she knew it had to end. Great pleasure always had its ending. It was just so rare for her; she could not help but wish for more. Not many people could offer her this amount of pleasure in a small period of time. It must have only been five minutes from the time he had first pushed the blade to her skin.

Princess then did the unexpected. She managed to turn around in his grasp, ripping his mouth from her shoulder blade only to crash her lips on his. Both of her hands gripped each side of his face. The man's face was greasy and something, what she guessed was makeup of some sort, came off on her hands. Her thumbs touched his cheeks and she rubbed them. Scars, she felt deep rigged scars and he flinched at the touch. If it were not for her grip on his face, he would have pulled away. She forced her tongue into his mouth and he let her. He knew what she wanted. She wanted to taste it. Taste her own blood.

This was only the second man she had ever kissed, the first being Croc. His lips were much different. Croc's were rough and scaly from his skin disease. This man's were smooth in comparison, though a little chapped.

Kissing was not something she did very often. Not many prostitutes do kiss. Kissing means attachment, and you could not get attached in that line of work. They had to keep themselves separate from their customers, because that's all they were, customers. Very few of the women actually kiss their men. When they do, it's because they are regulars and they had become attached to them. Some of them even fall in love with them and they would run off with them. Others liked being who they are and getting to sleep with multiple people and choose to stay. Then there was Princess, forced to stay while her father racked up even more debt for her to take care of.

This man had done something she thought nearly impossible. He had ignited such passion in her that it filled her body to the brim and more. Having no where to put it, she tried to force some of it in him. It seemed to be working. His hands were wrapped in her hair forcing her face all the more closer to his. His other hand gripped her hip tightly. Somewhere in the flurry of movements, she had lost her towel. It had gone unnoticed until the man had touched her.

Trying not to break the kiss, Princess fumbled with the buttons on the man's shirt. Her hands were shaking too much for her to undue them properly. She was naked and she be damned if she was going to be the only one. In her aggravation, she released a growl against the man's lips. She broke the kiss only to rip the shirt he wore open. With a clatter, buttons landed in all different directs.

The man cackled a high pitched airy laugh as her lips came into contact with his chest. "Anxious, aren't we?"

Princess growled in response as she bit and sucked on various parts of his chest. Her hands roamed his torso. More scars. What felt like bullet wounds and straight lined scars from the edges of knives. She did not mind scars, men were supposed to have scars, at least that was her opinion on the matter.

With her so close to him, a mixture of smells hit her nostril. Gasoline, smoke, and gunpowder. There could have been more, but the smell of gunpowder drowned out the rest. The sent of gunpowder was always her favorite. It was the reason why she would go to the gun range with her father and brother, besides the fact her brother always begged her to come with so that he could keep an eye on her. Out of everyone she had been forced to leave behind, he was the only one she missed.

"Gunpowder," he heard her whisper. She had stopped attacking his chest and just breathed him in. He could tell that she was lost in some kind of memory. Memory of a past that she would have rather forgotten. Well, it was time to make her forget.

With his hands still wrapped in her hair, he tilted her head to the side. He bent down and ran his mouth from her jaw line down to the crook of her neck, searching for her most sensitive area. When he reached the crook of her neck she shivered. On that spot, he bit down on it hard, drawing blood. Most women would have cried out in pain, but not Princess. She moaned and her knees became weak once again. The girl was really not used to such things.

Once again, his arm wrapped around her waist supporting her. As he lapped up the blood she shivered and moaned again. Her nails dug into his chest, ripping the flesh open. The moans were great, but he grew tired of hearing them. What he wanted to hear was her scream.

Almost blindly, he led her to the nearby table. He had a vague idea of where it was. Once the small of her back bumped into it and he heard the keys scrap across the word, he knew they had reached their destination. He hoisted her on the wooden object and forced her to lay back.

Princess lay there waiting on the cold of the wood in anticipation. She could hear him unbuckle his belt. The wait was killing her. It felt like an eternity for him to even do such a simple task, but every time she moved to sit up and help, the grip he had on her left hip tightened and his nails dug into her skin.

The dark was not her friend. She could not see what he was doing, nor tell the time. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Only a few seconds have passed, but it felt like hours before she heard him unzip his zipper. She bit her lip waiting. Nothing came. She was about to sit up when it happened.

He plunged inside of her. Most men took their time, her not being fully wet. When a woman was not fully aroused, the man was more likely to hurt himself than her. Not him. He just dug deep inside of her, pulling her hips toward him bringing himself in even deeper.

She screamed then and her back arched. Pain and pleasure all mixed into one. The perfect mix. Nothing for her could compare to it. Never has she felt both together. Never did she realize that she was a masochist until he had shown her the pleasure of pain.

Reaching above her head, she gripped the edge of the table. She had to do something with her hands and he was not allowing her to sit up still. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust inside her once again.

He shifted, leaning forward slightly. Gripping the table with his right hand, he settled his next to hers. He used the table as leverage as he viciously thrust in and out of her. His left hand was clawing at her, scratching her tender flesh. She did not mind it in the least bit, enjoyed it in fact.

With every thrust, a scream erupted from her lips. She was being loud, probably disturbing all in the hotel. At that moment she did not care. Could not bring herself to think of anything but the man's constant hard thrusts. By most standards, the man was large, large enough to bump her cervix. For most women that would have been painful, but Princess found it painfully enjoyable.

How much time had passed, she did not know. Nothing else mattered at the moment. All was forgotten. Slowly, she felt herself build to a climax. She held onto it for as long as she could, trying to savor every moment of this seemingly endless pleasure.

He felt her body quake under him. She was close, so close, as was he. He did not know how much longer he could hold on. Each scream that came from her lips brought him that much closer. But those were not the screams he wanted to hear. He wanted _the _scream. The hair raising scream of absolute pleasure and passion. A scream that he knew she would provide for him. He just needed to wait a little longer. Just a little longer.

He did not have to wait long. Princess could no longer hold on any longer. She let it go. The scream he so wanted to hear left her lips. Her grip on the table tightened and she felt her nails want to give and break. She was sure later if she checked the wood would have deep scratches marring it.

The scream was enough for him. He climaxed before he even felt her muscles contract around him. Panting, he laid his head on her chest, still inside of her. Her heart beat was erratic and breathing the same speed. A film of sweat covered her body and he knew it was the same with his. He just needed to catch his breath and he would be gone. He had so much to do; taking this little detour was worth it. She had been everything he had thought she would be. After studying her for a few weeks, he had figured out what kind of person she was. No, he was not stalking her. He had just heard something about her of interest to him, and wanted to test it. This little get together was just to see if what he suspected was true, and it was. He was never wrong about people.

There was no need to worry about pregnancy. All the girls were on some form of birth control. That was common knowledge. Not a soul that had paid for a woman's company would have to worry about her coming to his door step her belly fat with child. It was true that birth control was not always effective. Some of the girls still got pregnant. Most of them opted for an abortion, others just left until the child was born. Princess had met a few women that had several children, not finding it in themselves to murder a part of them. Princess had never had to worry about it, and did not know what she would do if it did happen. Most likely, her decision would be made for her.

Princess' heart rate slowed as did her breathing. She was near to tears, but she would not cry, not in front of a man that she knew nothing about. Her hand went to his hair and she played with it, doing anything to stop thinking about the tears. Twisting it around her fingers and running then through it. It felt greasy, but that could have just been from the sweat that covered both of them. When finished with his hair, she moved to his face. She wanted to feel the rough ragged scars again. Just touch them once more before the night was done.

When her fingers grazed his scar he grabbed her hand. "Don't do that," he said. He wanted it to sound threatening, but was too tired to put forth the effort.

"Why, because of the scars." She stared up into the black ceiling. "I don't mind scars. In fact, I like them. Seeing a man with scars is better than one without. It means the man has done something with himself. He's lived through something that some have not. A man with scars is less likely to beat me."

The last was said barely above the whisper, but he had heard it. "How many men have beaten you, Princess?"

"More than I can count. A lot, I guess." Why was she telling him this? He was just a customer. "Doesn't matter. It's my life and I have ta live it."

"Poor, poor, Princess," the man stated moving his head. He planted a kiss on the center of her chest and she shivered when his hot breath brushed against it. "Princesses should not be beaten. They are meant to rule, not be ruled. Besides, you're too pretty to hit."

"How do you know what I look like?"

"I've been watching you for a while."

"Watchin' me? You've been stalkin' me?" Princess felt fear creep up on her. She had heard about men stalking some of the girls. It always turned out bad. The women would show up dead in some alleyway. Princess may hate her life, but she did not want to die.

"No, no. Stalking is such a harsh word. Just watching. I've heard some interesting things about you and had to see if they were true. Let me tell ya, ya didn't disappoint." He stood straight up and detached her legs from around his waist. Taking a step back, he pulled out of her making a small whimper escape her lips. She rolled on her side and curled up in a little ball. "Now, it's been fun chattin' with ya, Princess, but I have ta go. Got so much work to do. I'm sure we'll be seein' each other _real_ soon."

"Where are my clothes?"

"On the bed. I would suggest that you take a shower before you head out, you have makeup on you."

Princess was confused. With her first shower all her makeup was washed off. How would she get more on her?

The door opened. "Hey," she called before she heard it close. "What's your name?"

"Joker," he answered and Princess could hear the smile in his voice. "Just call me Joker." And with that, he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him.

"Joker? That's a strange name." She said aloud.

After what felt like a few minutes past, Princess pulled herself off of the table. As was suggested to her, she took a quick shower. Feeling around on the bed she found her clothes on put them on. After her thigh high books were on her feet, she made her way downstairs.

Walking came a little harder for her. She was sore. At least she had an excuse for walking funny. The man, or Joker as he called himself, had pounded her viciously. At the time, her body had taken great pleasure in the pain. Now, it just hurt.

She made it down the stairs and was about to head out the door when Bib stopped her. "Hey, Princess," he called to her from his desk. A single but big candle sat in the middle of the desk. "Come here."

Princess sighed in annoyance but walked over to the man. "What is it, Bib?" she inquired harshly.

"I know ya want ta go home, but ya don't have to take that tone with me."

"Sorry," she mumbled, chastised. "I'm just really tired."

"I bet cha are. I'm sure half of the Narrows heard ya." Princess flushed in embarrassment. "Don't worry about it kid, happens to all the girls every once in a while. I didn't call ya back ta give ya a hard time. He left you somethin'."

"Really? What?"

From somewhere beneath his desk, Bib produced a hoodie styled jacket. He tossed it to her over the desk. "Said he left you a few things in the pocket."

The jacket was small and just her size. This meant Joker had bought it just for her. From the meager light the candle produced, it looked to be a dark shade of purple. She put it on and smelled the tell tale signs of gunpowder. After zipping it up about half way, she reached into the pockets. In one pocket there was a wad of bills, all hundreds. Princess gaped at all of them. That had been the most money she had ever seen in her life. In the other pocket was a joker playing card. The little man on the card was colored completely in black, wore a jester's hat and held up a scepter to his chest. His mouth was opened, forever laughing.

Princess could not help but smile. "I'm going home, Bib. See ya tomorrow." She left.

Bib watched her go. When she was a good distance away from the hotel, and there were no signs of her turning back, he sighed. "How long you plannin' to stand there watchin' her go?" he asked the man lurking in the darkness behind them.

Joker stepped into the light. "Just a little longer. It's nice to watch her walk away." He turned to Bib, a smile on his painted face.

Bib shivered as Joker's dark gaze hit him. The man was very unsettling. His face was painted chalk white to his ears. Circled around his eyes was makeup black as coal. From nearly ear to ear a red grin was painted on his face, enhancing the scars that went to the same length. The paint on his face was smeared from the sweat of his previous activity along with Princess' passionate kiss.

"What cha plannin' to do with her, Joker?"

Joker's shoulders lifted and lowered in a shrug. "Just a little bit of this, a little of that. Well, maybe a lot of that."

"Ya gonna use her, just like everyone else."

"She'll be used to it then, now won't she?"

"I sold her soul to the Devil," Bib sighed.

Joker cackled his high pitched laugh at the man. He had been called many things, most unpleasant, but Devil was a new one. He rather liked that one. "Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?" Joker asked the man.

"No, and I don't care to."

"If your metaphor is correct, then Princess just did. I think she rather liked it."

"Why you so interested in her?"

"She intrigues me. I heard talk about her on the streets and had to see what it was all about. They call her many things, none too pleasant. The one that intrigued me the most was 'Freak Lover.' I wondered what could have caused such a nasty name, then I spotted her man. Croc is his name I do believe."

"Yeah, Croc's his name, but I wouldn' call him her man. They live together, but aren't together. Croc lover her, but she don't love him like he loves her. Princess says she feels bad for it, but she don't think she could love anyone. With the life she's had, I can see why."

"All the better." Joker smiled and Bib shivered at it. "I don't need some girl havin' feelings for me. She'll just become a nuisance and get in the way. I'd have ta kill her then. Don't want to kill Princess; it'll just ruin my fun."

Bib looked at the man horrified. There was no doubt in his mind that Joker would kill the girl. He did not want that. He wanted Princess out of danger, out of the life she had, he did not want an end to it. "Don't kill her," pleaded Bib.

Joker's head tilted to the side. "Now, why would I go and do a thing like that, hmm? Only a monster would snuff out the life of such an amazing creature. Do I look like a monster to you?"

It was a trick question and Bib knew it. Instead of answering, he kept quiet. He knew that it was a stupid thing to do, but he did not want to put into words of what he thought about the man. They would only get him killed and he was not ready to die just yet.

"Hm," Joker licked his lips, "no answer, uh?" Means you do think me a monster. Normally, I would kill you, but I don't have the time. Have so much to do and so little time to do it." He headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't want to stay away from Princess too long. She might lose interest. Can't have that. I have so much in store for her."

Bib watched the man leave. After he was out of sight, Bib relaxed. He ran his right hand over his balding head. What had he done? If he would have known that the man was just as horrible as the mob, he would have never mentioned Princess. He wanted Princess out of the mob, but not in danger. That man, Joker, seemed full of danger. His very presence reeked of the horrible deeds he had done.

How could he have done that to her? Bid had done nothing but try and protect the girl, but to no avail. She was always hurt. The life she lived was harsh, and she was so young. Still just a girl in his eyes. Too young to be doing what she was doing. Well, it had not been her choice. That decision had been made by her father. Such a horrible man. To condemn his daughter to prostitution to work up the debt that he had dug himself into. She suffered because of him.

That suffering was the reason that Bib had turned to Joker. He had heard that the man had it out for the mob. It sounded like such a good idea at the time to talk to him about her. Thought he would save her. Help her. If he had known what kind of man Joker was he would have left well enough alone. Princess might have been better off with the mob. Bib regretted his choice.

But the past could not be changed. The past was certain. Only the future held uncertainty. Bib prayed with every once of himself that the uncertainty would benefit the girl.


	3. The Station

Down the dirty dark streets Princess went to get back to her small crappy apartment. At least there, there would be someone waiting for her. There she had someone who cared about her and would protect her. Croc, the only man that loved her the way a woman was supposed to be loved by a man. He may not be the pretties of men, but he was the sweetest. He would hold her, comfort her, and offer her the love she wanted but could not return. If only she could melt the iced bitterness around her heart. Then, she knew, she would be able to return that love. But there was no possible way of that. Not just them. Maybe, just maybe, when she had paid off all of her father's debt and was no longer in the clutches of the mob she could do just that. Until then, he would love but never be loved in return.

Bright headlights hit her face as a car drove down the street. For a moment, Princess was blinded. The lights were abnormally bright in the pitch black of the street. She stopped not being able to see where she was going, closing her eyes. Even through her eyelids she could still see the bright light. When they disappeared Princess opened her eyes and looked around. The car had not left, but parked itself on the street next to her.

The dome light inside the car turned on as the driver's door opened. Out of it a man stepped and made his way toward Princess. By just the way the man walked, she could tell that he was a cop. In a few quick strides he was on her and gripped her upper arm tightly.

She struggled against his grip as he led her to the car. "What the hell?!" she screamed at him. "I didn't do anything wrong. Let me go!"

"I'm placing you under arrest under the suspicion of prostitution," his deep voice growled. Princess rolled her eyes. She figured that much. In the darkness, she could not make out his features. All that she could tell was that he was much bigger than her, but so was just about every man in the world.

After she was forcefully shoved against the car, he ordered her to spread her legs. She obeyed, and he began his search. He started at her shoulders and worked his way down. Checking her pockets, he found the playing card and replaced it but pocketed the cash. Already a deep hatred was growing inside her of the man. She had earned that money fair and square, and he had taken it from her. She hated cops, but most of all, she hated dirty cops. They were the worst breed of the vile creatures.

It was not until his hand brushed against her most intimate of spots that Princess thought something really wrong. Her entire body froze still. He was one of _those_ cops. She had heard tales of them from the other girls who had come into contact with them. They were the ones that used and abused their powers as enforcers of the law. Most of them were in the pockets of the mob. But there were a few strays, and she guessed that the man frisking her was one of them. If he was not, then he would not have picked her up this way. The mob would have provided entertainment for him.

Princess shook. She was afraid. It was going to happen again. She was going to be rapped, and there was nothing she could do about it. The option of fighting back had been beaten from her long ago. She had not been taught to fight but submit. Submission was all she knew in a world of dominance. She would do whatever the man wanted. Take whatever he gave.

After he was done frisking her, the cop stood up and pressed himself against her. "Let me go," she pleaded. "I haven't done nothin' wrong."

"Now, we both know that's not true." His hot breath hit her neck and she could smell the alcohol on it. Just perfect. A drunk cop while still on duty and in uniform. Gotham's finest at work. Princess opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "Shut up! I know what you are," he growled at her. "I've arrested whores before. Not a single on of them had panties on. Makes it easier for you little sluts, doesn't it?"

Princess just nodded. It was true. All the girls left their bottoms bare of panties. Some customers liked it in their cars and it was a little cumbersome to pull off the little pieces of fabrics in such a small space. Things went so much more smoothly without them. Took less time as well. Time was money, and they had to earn a living, or work off a debt.

The stagnant alcoholic breathe filled attacked her nostrils once again as the man chuckled deeply. Princess hated alcohol. The smell, taste, and the effects it had on people. The nice drunks were okay, the just giggled and lovingly hugged people. It was the mean ones that she had a problem with. Her father had been a mean drunk. Never hit her, but called her horrible things that were more directed toward her mother. Years ago, her mother had picked up everything and had left her father for another man, his partner of six years. They had skipped town, leaving Princess behind. She despised her mother for it. The woman had known that her father did not care for her, that if she left all she would have was her older brother.

Her brother had no idea the things their father had said to her. When he was present, the man was normal and acted like they were one big happy family. It hadn't been until Frankie went to college that he started to drink. Princess preferred when he didn't. He would just ignore her. His inattentiveness was better than the horribly vulgar things he yelled at her.

Alcohol changed people. Even the sweetest man was not immune to its effects. Croc hadn't been. He had come home drunk once and only once. That night had been terrible. The worse she had ever experienced with the man. He had been so rough, not having the ability to control himself. It was not until he had seen her tears that he sobered up. After that he had held her, apologizing for what he did, and promised he would never drink again. To that day, he had held true to his word.

Princess felt the man's hands start to roam her body. She was sickened by his touch and could throw up right there. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up; she had not eaten anything all day. It was not that her apartment was void of food, it was full of it, she just was not hungry that day. There were days that she would go without eating because she did not feel hungry. Her body was used to starvation and still tried to keep it. It left her very skinny. She was not like Selina who was lucky enough to have an athletic build to her. Princess was just skinny.

"You're a bony little thing, ain't cha?" the cop asked as his hand rubbed against her ribs, thumb brushing the bottom of her breast.

Though she tried desperately to hold it in, a tear escaped her and slid down her cheek. Why didn't he just get it over with? Just get it over with and take her to the station. He was going to no matter what she did. The vile bastards always took them to the stations. Princess had never visited one; she had never been caught, until then. She just wished that it had been a clean cop. But none of them were ever really clean in her eyes.

The man was taking too long. Taking his sweet time with her. "Just get it over with and take me to the station," she whispered hoarsely. The lump in her throat was so large that she felt as if she was going to choke on it. It made it even hard to breathe and even harder to hold back her tears.

"Just can't wait for me to fuck you. Fine, I'll give the whore what she wants."

Princess went deaf and numb to all around her. It was her only defense against such things. It wasn't until later, when she was at the station surrounded by cops that she realized that the man had finished with her. She did not even remember him cuffing her. Tears that she could not recall spilling stained her cheeks.

A woman officer took her from the man to process her. Without a word, Princess let the woman lead her away. She searched her pocket and found the playing card. She seemed to be more interested in it than the previous officer had been. The jacket Princess had been wearing was taken from her as well.

After being fingerprinted she was thrown into a cell. Normally, with her being a woman, she would have been thrown into her own cell, but they seemed to be full up. Every cell had at least three of four occupants in it, Princess' was no exception. Unfortunately, she was stuck with all men and all of them had smirks on their faces.

Gripping the bars to the cell so tightly her knuckles were white, Princess kept on her feet as far away from the men as possible. She did not want to go near them. At the moment, men were he least favorite species. They were all vile and disgusting, and those men that stared at her lecherously from the bench would be the worst.

She glanced over her shoulder at them constantly. Afraid that if she took her eyes off of them for more than a minute they would attack her. Silently she prayed that one of the cops would come and let her have her phone call. Croc would be the one that she called. He would come and get her. He would save her. He was the only one that she trusted. He would ever purposely hurt her.

"Hey, baby," one of the men called to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. He patted the bench next to him. "Why don't you come and have a seat next to us. We won't bite ya."

Turning away from him, she stayed where she was. Nothing was going to make her move from that spot. She watched the door closely, finding herself hoping that a cop would walk through it. Anything was better than the men sharing the cell with her.

The man that had talked to her stood up and slinked his way to her. "What's the matter?" he asked as he leaned against the bars next to her. "Don't you like us?"

She took a step away from him. He was too close. "Just leave me alone, please," she pleaded.

He reached a hand toward her but stopped in mid gesture when the door to the holding cell room was slammed open. "Step away from her!" a male voice commanded. Princess had never been happier to see anyone in her life. She even recognized the man from her childhood. James Gordon. Her brother Frankie had idolized him and wanted to be just as good a cop as he.

With his hands held up, the man stepped away from her. "Come on, Gordon, I wasn't doin' anythin' wrong. Just chattin' with her."

"I'm sure." He unlocked the cell door. His intense gaze hit Princess. "Come with me, I have a few questions to ask you."

Walking quickly, Princess did as the man instructed. Once she was in his reach, he gripped her tightly by the elbow and led her away, taking care to lock the cell door behind him. "Can I go to the bathroom?" she asked him quietly as they passed one. He paused and looked from her to the door. "I won't run away. I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Go on," he answered lightly while releasing his hold on her.

Before he could change his mind, Princess rushed into the bathroom. She did not have to use the restroom, but the urge to vomit had returned. This time, she did not have the ability to keep it down. Once she had walked through the bathroom door, she ran to a stall and ejected the invisible contents in her stomach.

It took the better part of five minutes before the dry heaves stopped. She laid her head on the cold porcelain and closed her eyes. The lump in her throat returned. This time she allowed the tears to freely flow. There was no one around to see or hear her. She could cry in peace.

Several minutes passed before a light tapping came from outside the stall she was in. Sniffling, Princess wiped the tears from her face and stood up. She opened the door revealing who had been knocking. It was the same woman that had been processing her before. She had naturally tanned skin and dark eyes, obviously Latino. "Are you alright?" she asked Princess.

"I'm fine. Just felt a little sick is all. Excuse me," she said as she brushed past the woman. Walking to the sink, she turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She used her hands to dry off her face.

"People don't cry just because they feel a little sick. So, what's wrong?"

"Just leave me alone," Princess commanded harshly as she left the room.

As soon as she was out the door, Gordon greeted her by gripping her elbow tightly once again. He led her around the station and into a room that had a single table and two chairs, one on either side of it. Two way mirrors were lined on the walls. Princess knew what kind of room she was now in. She had seen plenty of cop films, when she was lucky enough to go to the movies with Croc, with them in it. It was an interrogation room. Where cops took people to question them about various crimes. What she did not understand was why she was there. She had done nothing wrong.

Gordon sat her in the farthest chair and took the one across from her. "Why am I here? In this room, I mean?"

"I have just a few questions for you. Then, you can make your phone call and go home," he informed her.

Going home sounded wonderful at that moment. So she decided to speed things along. "Okay, what do you want to ask me?"

"Where did you get this?" Gordon asked holding up the playing card.

"A customer gave it to me, along with the jacket. He said his name was Joker." No point in lying. If she lied, she would just have to stay there longer. Exhausted, she wanted anything but that.

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know. The Narrows lost power and I didn't see him." Princess touched either side of her face with her fingertips. "I do know that he had scars on his cheeks. That's just about all I can tell you."

"So, you have no idea who the man is?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No, I don't. It was my first time meeting him."

"Don't you watch the news?"

"I'm not allowed to have a t.v."

Gordon looked taken aback. He had never heard that one before. Who would have the authority to stop her from getting a television? "He's robbed a stream of banks. Always leaves a similar playing card at the scene."

"I really don't know anythin' about it."

He sighed and ran his hand through his head. She was telling the truth, that much he could tell. The girl looked vaguely familiar to him, but he could not put his finger on it. Where could he have seen her before? She had never been arrested, that would have turned up as soon as her fingerprints were run. Nothing had come up, so how did he know her face? "How old are you?" The question left his lips before he had any time to even think about it. The question of her age had been bothering him since he had first seen her walk through the station doors.

"Nineteen. I'll be twenty in a few months."

"How long have you been a prostitute?"

Princess bit her lip nervously before answering. "Five almost six years."

"Why?"

"Can I just have my phone call now?" Princess did not like where the questions were headed. The topic of her life was nothing she was comfortable discussing, especially a cop.

He just nodded in response and stood from his seat. With a motion of his hand, he ordered her to follow him. She did as commanded. After a few twist and turns they reached the phones and she immediately called Croc. She explained to him in little detail, Gordon stood hovering behind her, of what had happened. He had sounded sleepy on the phone, but told her he would be there in a few minutes.

After she had hung up, Gordon led her to the main room in the station. He left her sitting in a row of chairs. Most would have been put back into the holding cells, but he did not trust the men alone with her. She was very grateful for his concern. Something about being trapped in a cage with those men frightened her, and for good reason. There was no telling what they would have done to her.

"Jessica?" a male voice called. Princess looked up. She hadn't heard that name in years. All the people she now knew just called her Princess. Who would have known that name?

Her question was answered when a young officer stepped in front of her. Though it had been years since she had last seen him, she would never forget him. He was her brother after all. "Frankie?"

"Oh, my God, it is you," he pulled her from her seat and hugged her. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Where did you go? Dad told me you ran away."

Princess pushed him away, suddenly angry. "Is that what the bastard told you?" she spat. "That I ran away. Guess he couldn't tell you the truth. Had to keep his image of a perfect father."

"What are you talking about?" Frankie asked her. Frankie J she used to call him, short for Franklin Jones Jr. He was so unlike her. Blond hair, blue eyes, the spitting image of their father, where as she looked like their mother with her dark hair and gray eyes. She suddenly hated him. Hated him for looking like the bastard that had condemned her to the hell she lived in. Hated him for taking the same occupation as him. Hated him for being so stupid.

The station had suddenly grown quiet, but that went unnoticed to Princess. She did not care who heard. The anger she felt pushed away all caring. "If I had run away I would have gone to you, and you know that. No, I didn't run away. The son of a bitch gave me to the mob! Gave me to them to work his debt! That's what I've been doing for the past five years. Workin' off a debt that keeps piling up higher and higher."

"Jes-"

"No! I'm not Jessica anymore! I haven't heard that name in five years. Jessica is gone! I'm Princess now! Just get away from me; I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Frankie left then. Left her alone just like she wanted. Once he was gone, she fell back into the chair she had been previously sat in. Gordon seemingly popped out of nowhere and held out her jacket to her, she snatched it away and held it to her chest. There was pity in his eyes, but he said nothing about what had just happened. Just informed her that her ride was there. She nodded and let him lead her to Croc.

Princess put on the jacket and pulled it tightly to her as if seeking comfort from the thin material. Feeling numb, she did not even notice when Croc started to lead her to his truck, holding her close to him. Automatically, her arms wrapped around as much of his bulk as they could, her face buried in his side.

Never did she let the man go. Not even while he was driving them home. She clung to him desperately afraid to lose the only person that gave a damn about her. He whispered soothing words to her though he knew that she was not hearing them. Just the sound of his gravelly voice gave her the comfort that she needed. The feel of his rough hand rubbing her arm and her hair was more soothing than the words that he spoke.

By the time they made it home, dawn was breaking and the city was gray. Sometime during the ride Princess had fallen asleep and Croc had to carry her up the several flights of steps to their apartment. It was an easy task for him. Princess weight resembled that of a feather to him. She was so small that he could nearly carry her in one arm.

When he passed her door, Selina popped her head out the door and inquired to Princess' well being. Croc shook his head giving her the answer she did not want to hear. She sighed and went back into her apartment next door to the one he and Princess shared.

He managed to open the door one handed and closed it with his foot. Traveling only a few feet, he gently laid her on the bed on top of the covers. She stirred and then rolled over. Trying hard not to wake her, Croc took off her boots. It was no easy task. Every time he touched her she would roll over, but he managed and they were now lying on the floor next to the bed.

He walked to the table that was just a few steps away and sat at the table. The apartment was very small. The kitchen, bedroom, and living room were all in the same room. The only room that had a door separating it from everything else was the bathroom. It was small and cramped, hardly any of their stuff fit in it, but it was all they had. With the money he made, Croc could easily afford to get them a bigger place, but Princess did not want to leave Selina. The woman was like a sister to her and had been her neighbor for the past five years. Leaving her would be hard on Princess.

Leaning forward, Croc grabbed the joint that he had been smoking before he had gone to bed, before Princess had called him. By the sound of her voice, he knew that there was more that happened than what she had told him over the phone. He did not press the matter. If she wanted to talk about it, she would tell him later. Most likely she would not. She did not tell him much. It hurt him, but he knew she had the best intentions. She did not want him to do something stupid and get himself locked up again.

Lighting the partial smoked white object, he inhaled deeply. He held it in until his lungs started to burn and then exhaled. Small dainty hands were placed on his shoulders. Leaning his head back, he spotted Princess. She smiled down at him, her eyes still red and puffy from crying earlier. "I thought we were out," she said, her voice hoarse.

"Got some more." He studied her for a moment. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

She shook her head. "No, I'd rather not think about it right now. Maybe later," she offered.

He handed her the joint. She took it and moved herself to where she was standing next to him instead of behind. Croc's arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close to his side. She took a hit off of the burning object, rubbing his rough bald head with her free hand. When her lungs were filled she stopped. She leaned his head back and with her mouth barely an inch above his, blew a thin line of smoke into Croc's mouth who inhaled it greedily.

With all the smoke gone from her and into him, she kissed him. It was a small game they played. See how long Croc could hold in the smoke before he broke the kiss to breathe. The kiss lasted for over a minute before he could no longer hold it in. He exhaled sharply after they parted. While he exhaled, she replaced the joint in the ashtray, and then quickly returned to his lips.

Princess slid into his lap, pressing her body as close to his as she could. Croc's lips were dry, rough, and scaly, but she liked them. Liked the feel of them against her soft skin. Liked the way that they scrap across her skin as he went from her lips to her neck. He nipped at her neck softly so not to leave any marks. The only marks Princess was allotted to have were bruises. She was going to get in trouble from the bit mark that Joker had left her, but she did not mind. It would be worth it. The pleasure she had gotten from the man was worth whatever punishment she received.

Princess took off the purple jacket that had been keeping her warm. She shivered in the cold, and it was made worse when Croc took off her shirt. In return, she tugged off his. When her lips came into contact with his chest, he shivered. She bit, licked, and kissed her way up to his neck, then proceeded to attack his earlobe. What little nails he had scrapped across her back and a small moan escaped her lips.

With one arm, Croc lifted Princess up pushing her against his chest. Her mouth left his earlobe and replaced them on his lips. Their tongues danced together as he fumbled with his zipper. Once that feat had been accomplished, he placed both hands on her hips. Managing not to break the kiss, he gently lowered her onto him. As he was pushed inside her, she whimpered the sound muffled by his lips. Croc was not a small man and Princess was a small woman, this combination left it rather painful for her in the beginning.

After a few moments, giving her time to adjust to his size, Croc broke the kiss. "Are you ready?" She nodded, not finding the ability to speak. Achingly slow, he raised and lowered her repeatedly.

Princess whimpered and moaned, biting her lip to keep quiet. The walls of the apartment were as thin as papier-mâché and some of the neighbors complained when she got too loud. It was rather embarrassing for her, especially when Selina teased her about it.

Croc growled and lifted her off of him. "Get on the bed," he commanded her. She obeyed, stumbling like a drunkard. Before she laid herself on the bed, she took off her skirt tired of the squeezing material.

Princess fell onto the bed panting, waiting for Croc. When he finally made it to the bed, he forced her on all fours. Gripping her hips tightly, he forced himself inside her and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

He thrust himself in and out of her hard and deep. She felt herself quickly climb to a climax. Before she could even think of holding it in, it came. She buried her face into the sheet and clawed at it, to keep herself from screaming. Croc's nails dug into the tender flesh on her hips as he reached his peak, and thrust himself deeply into her one last time.

Exhausted, he pulled out of her and collapsed onto the bed. She followed suit and cuddled into his massive chest. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. "I love you, Princess."

A sob escaped her. "I know ya do, baby. I know. I wish ya didn't."

Croc sighed. It was the same response he got every time he proclaimed his love for her. He knew Princess could never love him. He didn't believe anyone could. Who could love a hideous freak like him? Children had ran and screamed at the sight of him. Though he did not show it, it hurt him deeply when that happened.

Princess always told him to find someone else, but there was no one else for him. Just her. She was the only one that could find the ability to overlook his appearance. He loved her deeply. So deeply it pained him. Sadly, she could not find it in herself to love him back. He told her how he felt never expecting her to say the same. But it would be nice to hear those three words pass through her beautifully kind lips for once.

He gazed down at her and saw that she was asleep. She had had a hard day and was extremely tired. He pulled the cover, the bed was never made and it lay randomly on the bed, on top of them and closed his eyes. It would be a few hours before he had to get up and go and sleep was the easiest way to pass time. Only seconds passed before he slipped into the blissful darkness of sleep.


	4. Princess of Headaches

A warm dainty hand rested on the sleeping Princess' should and shook her. She groaned but ignored it. She did not want to get up yet, still tired from the night before. Rest was good. Sleep is what she needed, and this person would not let her do that. What the hell was their problem? Why couldn't they just let her sleep?

"Princess!" Selina's voice called to her. Fear and alarm filled her voice.

Hearing her tone, Princess instantly woke, alert and ready. "What's wrong?" she quickly asked.

"Andy's out of the hospital. He's pissed. He's coming for you!" In her fear, Selina's voice rose in pitch and volume. "You have ta get out of here. He's not just gonna hurt you this time, he wants ta kill ya."

"Where is he?!" Princess asked alarmed. She searched around the bed for her clothes.

Selina went to the lone dresser next to the bed and rummaged through the drawers, pulling out random articles of clothing. Tossing them to the woman on the bed, she answered, "He's downstairs. Shelly's tryin' hard ta calm him down, but it ain't workin.' You have ta get out of here."

As fast as she could, Princess got dressed. Selina handed her the only pair of tennis shoes she owned and she put them on her socked feet. The outfit was not the greatest, but that did not matter at the moment. Getting away from Andy was the only thing she cared about.

"Take the fire escape," commanded Selina once Princess had both shoes on her feet.

With a nod, Princess headed to the window next to the bed. Scrambling out of the window, she banged her knee on the sill. Only a moment was allotted to her to wince in pain. Soon after, banging was heard from her door accompanied with Andy's booming voice. At hearing the man's angry voice, she quickened her pace.

As fast as her short legs could carry her, she scrambled down the steps. When she reached the ladder, she was already out of breath. Running was not something she was used to doing. Then again, she never had someone chasing her that was hell bent on killing her. Beating, yes, killing, no. She may hate her life, but Princess did not want to die. Not at such a young age. She wanted to experience at least a little bit of happiness before she was in the grave.

Once her feet hit the pavement below her, she took off running. There was only one place she could go. 'Jaded.' A strip club that happened to be owned by the mob. It, also, happened to be the place where Croc worked as a bouncer. He stayed there from open to close, trying to keep the peace. With his bulk, that came naturally to him. Most of the men would instantly stop any brawl once the man stepped in. He never had to throw anyone out; they just went willingly, afraid the man would crush their skulls with his large hands. A task that he could easily accomplish with one hand.

At the exit of the alleyway that she was running down, Princess encountered the one person she did not want to see, Andy. He grabbed her pinning her arms to her sides as she struggled in his grip. "Where you goin,' Princess? Don't you want to see me?" His voice was dark and sinister, hinting at the things he wanted to do to her.

"Let me go!" she screamed. When he closed his eyes to chuckle at her, she brought up her knee and hit him in the groin. It was her only defense and it worked wonders. He released her and she took off running.

Harder and harder she was finding it to breathe. The burning in her chest and legs were excruciating. Only adrenaline kept her going. Long ago she would have stopped, but Andy was so close behind her she dared not to. Her heart pounded so fiercely in her chest she feared it would burst forth from it in a bloody mess.

When she reached the entrance to the club she burst inside. Not giving her eyes to adjust she ran to the bar. The club was closed at the moment, but would open in under a half an hour. Mike was standing behind the bar. "Princess, what's wrong?" he asked in mild interest.

"Where's Croc?" she managed to ask between breaths.

"He stepped out to get us all something to eat. Why?"

Princess finally managed to get her breath. "It's Andy. He's gonna kill me."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Princess. Stop being so melodramatic." A big word for a part-time bartender full-time pimp. Mike was a well educated man, but had chosen a different lifestyle. One he found more enjoyable than wasting his life away in a cubicle somewhere.

Tears started to well in her eyes. "I'm being serious, Mike. He was chasin' me. I don't know if I lost him or not, I didn' want ta turn around."

As if on queue, Andy burst through the door. He stood still for a moment, scanning the room. When his eyes landed on Princess a large grin broke on his face. "Princess," he called as if she were a long lost lover. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"What do you want with her?" Mike asked. Maybe there was some truth to Princess' words. He still thought that she was being a drama queen, but the look on Andy's face unsettled him a bit.

"I just wanna talk ta her. Nothin' important, just a little chitchat." He held up his hand with his forefinger and thumb touching each other.

Mike sighed. It would appear that Princess was not being melodramatic; the man really did want to kill her. Andy was pissed about something, and Mike was going to get to the bottom of it. "Harley," he called. The blond haired blue eyed woman at the end of the bar turned and looked at him. "Take Princess to the back. Me and Andy are going to have a talk."

Harley nodded and stood up motioning for Princess to follow, and the young woman did so gladly. When they were in the back room, it was where the strippers got ready for their sets, Harley turned and smiled at Princess. With a few motions of her hands, she asked if Princess was alright. "I'm fine. Just a little scared is all," Princess answered.

Harley Quinn, one of the greatest strippers in all of Gotham had only one flaw. She was mute. At birth, she had not been blessed with the ability to speak, sing, or laugh. If she opened her mouth to do anything, not a single word would come out. Her muteness had been the reasoning for her nickname. Princess thought that whoever had come up with the name was not all that bright. She may not be the smartest, but she knew that they had been thinking of a mime, not a harlequin.

When she was younger, Princess would read books. Most of them were fantasy, her favorite genre. She had spent many nights dreaming that she was an entertainer in the halls of kings and queens. Now, she was an entertainer for the scoundrels of the worst city in the world. Funny how things turn out.

With her hands, Harley talked to her. The woman did not use the conventional signs that the deaf and mute normally used. She had come up with her own. Princess had learned quickly to understand what she was trying to say. With the many days she had spent there keeping Croc and the woman company, it had been a simple task. Harley's gestures were always simple and to the point, making them easily understandable.

"Do you know why the prick wants to kill you?" she asked.

"No. I think it might have somethin' to do with Croc puttin' him in the hospital last night."

Hands moving quickly, Harley asked, "How did he get out so fast?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Princess answered, "I dunno. He didn' look all that messed up. Maybe Croc didn' rough him up as bad as they had thought." Harley snapped her fingers and shook her head, her way of saying damn. Princess laughed. "I said the same thing."

Women started to pile into the room in small separate groups. Each group was giggling and laughing at each other. They piled behind the row of mirrors lining the wall to the left and started to get ready for the evening. Harley rolled her eyes at every one of them. She did not like the other strippers, found them too giddy. Felt that they daydreamed too much. She wanted to be surrounded by people who were in reality. People like Princess.

When Croc had first introduced the two, Harley had taken an instant liking to the girl. She was sweet, caring, and overlooked what most did not. It was the reasoning behind people calling her 'Freak Lover.' Every one of her acquaintances were, in one way or another, different from the norm. Selina looked and acted like a cat, her sister Holly never went beyond the apartment door that they shared, Harley could not talk, and Croc's appearance was just as his name sake suggested. All of them were different and Princess cared for each and every one of them.

With a smile on her face, Harley turned her attention back to Princess. "Bib told me about your last customer of the evening." Princess blushed as Harley's hands spoke. "So, how was he?"

"Good," mumbled Princess. "Very good. The best, actually."

Harley clapped excitedly. "Did you get his name?"

"Told me to call him Joker. Eva hearda him?" Harley shook her head.

One of the other girls, standing in front of a mirror, caught their attention when she stated, "Must have been a freak if she liked him."

Only two in the room were left without laughter. Sadly, Princess was not well like among the women. Most of the men liked her well enough. Well, more like what she could do than her personality. "Freak is an ugly word," retorted Princess as she glowered at the woman.

"Not as ugly as you," the woman hissed back.

Shrugging her shoulders, Princess only had one comeback. "Think what you want of me. I don't give a shit."

Before the woman could say anything, Mike entered the room. He did not look happy. "What the hell are you all standing around for?!" he yelled at the women. "Get your asses in gear!"

Most of the women turned and started to apply their makeup. Only one stood as she was. Easy to guess which one that was. "I don't see ya yellin' at Harley," she spat putting her hands on her hips. "Jus' because she's yo woman don't mean ya should treat her any differently."

Now, Mike was livid. Normally, he was a hard man to anger, but not that day. He had already had to deal with Andy. Then Croc had come in at the most inopportune moment. It had started a screaming match, which had given the man a headache. Now, he had to deal with this shit as well. Some bitch that thought she could talk back to him. "Shut yo mouth before I smack ya." Mike had reverted back to street talk. It only happened when he was at his angriest. "I know how hard it is for a stripper to earn tips when she's got bruises on her face. Do ya want that?"

The woman 'humped' and went back to applying her makeup. A smile of satisfaction appeared on Princess' face. She rather enjoyed that moment. The smile was wiped from her face when Mike turned his anger lit eyes on her. "Come on, Princess." He gripped her upper arm with a bruising grip.

Princess let the man lead her out of the sight of the worried filled eyes of Harley. "Where are you takin' me?" she asked when they did not head to the bar room.

"To one of the private rooms."

For the first time, Princess started to struggle against the man. "No," she pleaded almost in tears. "Don't make me go to him."

A low growl of aggravation came forth from Mike's lips. He did not have the patience to deal with the whiny little bitch. The grip on her arm tightened and she whimpered in pain. "Listen!" he shouted. "I don't have time for yo shit! I don't care what he does to ya! I just can't have a dead body lyin' around. So, ya gonna take whatever he gives ya without complaint!"

Princess looked to the floor, stopping her struggling. "I don't see what Haley sees in ya. You're a bastard."

Mike glared down at the small young woman. At that moment, he could have hit her. He refrained from doing so; she was going to get a lot more done to her once she was in the hands of Andy. It was common knowledge to him that Andy had a sick obsession with the girl. He did not understand why. Princess was young, always bruised, and very weak. Thinking about her last attribute, Mike understood.

Andy liked to prey on the weak, and she was the weakest of the flock. She took whatever anyone gave her, tears being her only reaction. To Andy, she would be the perfect woman. There had only been one problem. She had chosen Croc over him and that angered the man. Had chosen a freak over the norm.

Not caring about the tears that now spilled from Princess' eyes, Mike dragged her to the room that held the one man that she feared and hated the most. After he opened the door, he literally shoved her into the man's arms. Before Mike even had time to close the door, Andy's hands started to roam her small body.

"Well, well, Princess," the man started, grinning from ear to ear, "looks like I have you in my arms once again."

A shivered racked her entire body. "Just drug me up and fuck me like ya always do," she whispered.

"If you insist!" Andy always carried a needle specifically for her. The drugs, whatever they were, mind numbing and made her more compliant to his will. Made her enjoy his touch along with making her touch him willingly. He did not know what was in the drugs, but they were made just for him by his good friend Doctor Jonathon Crane. The man was a genius when it came to mind altering products. He could conjure up anything seemingly with a flick of a wrist. Benefit of having a quack as a friend is he gets all the drugs he wants. Too bad the man had gotten caught by Batman the night before.

Princess felt the sharp prick of a needle entering the flesh of her lower back. Cold liquid was injected into her and her mind went blank. Never did she remember what happened after Andy's drugs took effect, which they did quickly. As the drug took its effect, her head fell forward on his chest. A small sigh escaped her lips, and she smiled.

Andy wasted no time in leading the young woman to the lone bed in the room, while stripping her of her small amount of clothing. The bed was not just used for sexual purposes; some men enjoyed watching the woman dance on the bed. They could just watch them move their bodies and fantasize about them, never touching the woman. Just the pleasure of watching their withering bodies was enough for them.

It was when he saw the bite mark Joker had left her that he grew angry. Someone else had marked her before he could even do so. He gazed down at her smiling face and a blinding fury hit him. How could she? How could she let some other man mark her and still smile up at him like that? The traitorous little bitch! His right hand wrapped its way around her neck and squeezed tightly, his fingers digging the flesh near the back of her neck.

In the state that she was in, Princess did not feel panic nor fear rise in her. She felt pleasure. The only benefit to Andy's drug, she could no longer feel the pain he inflicted on her. Pain was turned into pleasure. She ran her right hand up the man's forearm, and then brought it back down, her nail lightly scratching into his flesh. When his grip tightened, a small moan left her.

Andy shivered in delight. By her throat, he raised her to a sitting position. "You like that, don't you?" he asked her. The only reply she gave was removing her hand from his arm to his chest. While on the drug, Princess never spoke, the ability had abandoned her. Andy did not mind, he preferred her silent. "Of course you do," he answered himself. "You like anything I do to ya." The grip on her throat slackened as he removed his thumb to trace the line of her lower lip, her neck was already bruising.

Princess scooted herself closer to the man. Once she was in range, her lips met the flesh of his neck. She nipped and sucked on the tender flesh as she ran her hands down his torso to his groin. Once there, her long nails scraped the fabric of his pants as she rubbed him hard.

Moans and whimpers left her unchecked as Andy removed his hand from her neck and to her breast. He rolled her nipple with his thumb and forefinger until it became hard, and then moved down from there. When his fingertips barley brushed her stomach, goose bumps erupted all across her body. Not only did the drugs numb her mind, it heightened her sense of arousal. It was like ecstasy but better, she remembered nothing afterwards.

His fingers slipped easily inside of her making her arousal evident. The rubbing of his groin stopped and she squeezed him painfully hard. The fingers of his left hand tangled themselves in her hair and ripped her from his neck. "Hey," he hissed forcing her to look at his face, "that hurt. You don't hurt me, I hurt you, understand?" Princess bit her lip and nodded. Andy always enjoyed this. She was so much better on drugs, all the women were. He had tried the same drug on multiple women but never got the same results as he did with Princess. The drug had its full effect on her while the rest acted as if on a form of opiates. Princess became a whole other person. One that did not talk, did not glare at him, and did not hate him.

No more waiting, he could do so no longer. His obsession needed to be sated and there was only one way for that. He had to take her. Had to make her his, at least in part. A nagging part of his brain told him that he was sick and demented, but he pushed is away. That part of his brain did not matter to him. What he wanted was right in front of him, willing and ready. Why should he not take it?

Removing his fingers from her hair and from inside of her, he started to strip himself of his clothing. Princess fell back to the pillows and watched him longingly. The look in her eyes was enough to make him quicken his pace.

After all his clothes were off, he crawled onto the bed and in between her legs. He pulled her hips toward him, forcing her to wrap her legs around his. No time was wasted as he pushed himself into her. Princess' back made a high arch as she clawed at the covers of the bed. A loud cry of pleasure burst forth from her lips.

Andy's pace was surprisingly slow and gentle. Only Princess was allotted this. Shelly, his woman for the time being, got the quick and dirty version. He had only chosen the woman because she lived next to Princess. This had prompted him to even move in with the woman. It was a choice he regretted most nights. Not only did he have to deal with Shelly's constant complaining about everything in life, but he had to hear Princess' cries of pleasure as Croc fucked her.

Princess was his. He was the first to have her five years ago. She had been young and drugged out of her mind, but he did not care. Everything of that night was imprinted on his mind. Her cried, her screams, and her pleads for him to stop. She had bled so much that night it nearly frightened him. But he could not bring himself to stop. The head that held his brain had not been what he was thinking with.

A scream breached the lips of Princess as she orgasmed. That was just one. Andy could go on much longer, and would if he did not fear the drugs wearing off. He quickened his past to that of a hard pounding. Right before he reached his peak, she climaxed once again and that was enough for him. Her quaking body and her muscles contracting around him made him involuntarily finish.

As soon as he was finished, he left her. There was no reason for him to stick around; he had gotten what he wanted from her. His fix for the day. While he was getting dressed, he chanced a look at Princess. She was gazing at him with those puppy dog eyes, pleading for him to continue. He smirked and left the room. He'll leave Croc to deal with his sloppy seconds.

Croc watched Andy leave with the smirk still on his face. He hated that man. After Andy had left the club, Croc stood to go check on Princess. Mike started to protest, but Harley quieted him with a glare. She was very angry at him and would not even move her hands to speak to him.

After he entered the room, Croc closed the door behind him. He spotted Princess on top of the bed naked. She appeared to be asleep with her eyes closed and her back raising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. As silently as his bulky form would allow him, he made his way to her. Once at the side of the bed, he knelt so that he could better check her out.

Besides the bruising on her neck, Princess seemed to be unharmed. That was unusual for Andy. Normally, he left the girl with at least a bloodied lip and a few more bruises. In a way, it relieved Croc. Seeing her virtually unharmed eased the worry he had felt previously.

His fingertips lightly brushed her neck and she shot up. When her eyes landed on him, she smiled. She sat herself on the edge of the bed, her knees at Croc's chest. "Princess, are," he started but was cut off when she pulled him into a kiss. Her tongue forced itself into his mouth and he unthinkingly responded.

His hands clawed at her back as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer. Princess broke the kiss so that she could attach herself to Croc's neck. "Princess, stop," he commanded, but she did not. Would not.

Croc had broken his promise that night, and had been drinking. How could he not with Andy in the other room doing only God knows what to her? When Croc drank, the little control he had over himself completely dissipated. He remembered what he had done to Princess the last time he had drank, and he did not want a repeat of the night. The night that had left him feeling the lowliest of scoundrels. Even lowlier than Andy.

That night he had hurt her badly. So badly, she bled. Not once did she cry out and tell him to stop. She had let him continue until he realized the horror of what he had done. Early on, Princess had been taught that it was best just to let them finish without complaint. With some of the men, the more she screamed, the more they hurt her. If she just lay there, silent, they would sooner be done with her.

Her conditioning would be applied there with Croc. He knew that he was going to once again hurt her, but he could not stop himself. Not with her as she was, biting and sucking on his neck and earlobe. He just hoped he did not harm her too much. Not like last time.

He felt her tiny hands unbutton his pants and tug at his zipper. When she had accomplished the small task, she withdrew him from his boxers. He pulled her halfway off of the bed and with an inhuman growl he plunged himself into her.

After that, his body took over and had the inability to stop. Even when her cries of pleasure turned into that of pain. He could not and would not stop. The monster named Lust had taken over him. Only after he had climaxed did he regain control of himself.

With the pain, Princess had sobered. She hated Andy more than ever at that point. Hated him for doing what he did to her. For forcing her to make Croc hurt her. She may not remember all that had happened, but she knew that it had been her doing for her current pain filled stated.

"I'm sorry, Princess," Croc cried as he buried his face in her neck.

She wrapped her arms around his massive neck. "It's okay, baby," she found her voice and the ability to comfort the man. "It's not your fault. It's mine." Though she was trying her best to comfort Croc, she felt tears flow from her eyes.

"Why ya cryin'?" inquired Croc when he felt the first tear land on his cheek.

A sob escaped her. "I don' remember what he did. I don' remember anythin'." She sniffled. "Take me home, please. Take me home and hold me. I don' wanna be here anymore."

Croc nodded in agreement. He helped her get dressed and without a word to Mike, left with her. Mike was left standing behind the bar alone, watching as Croc led Princess out the door, her arms attached to the man. He sighed knowing that later, when Croc returned, he would be hearing a few choice words from the man. It would end with him having another headache because of the young woman. He hated Princess for that. For all the drama that followed her. He could not wait until the day that she was gone. His life would be so much easier. But, he knew, that would never happen. Not with her father continuously collecting debt from the mob.

Mike did not know why anyone bothered with the girl. She was just one big headache. A headache that no amount of painkillers could remove. A constant annoying pain. He hated headaches.

Princess was a fitting name for her. Princess of Headaches. Mike smirked at the thought. Then, Harley came onto the dimly lit stage and all thoughts of the girl disappeared. She was not that important anyways. Not even worth a thought in his head. Nothing was as important to him as Harley Quinn.

Not even the Princess of Headaches.


	5. Serpent's Temptation

Alone in the dark, Princess laid on the bed. She was alone because Mike had called Croc back in when the club had gotten bust. It was dark because a large majority of the Narrows still did not have power. Princess did not mind the darkness that consumed the contents of her room. In fact, she welcomed it. The darkness did not allow her to see the abhorrence of her life. The horrible way she was forced to live. In the darkness, she could imagine that she was somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Gotham. A nice place where she could live a different life. A life full of happiness and cheer. A life that could never be hers.

A sigh escaped Princess' lips as she lay on the bed cuddled next to Croc's pillow. It smelled greatly of the man and she felt herself missing him, though he had only been gone for the better part of ten minutes or so. A dull ache in her heart at the thought of the man pained her. She had made him hurt her, and she felt guilty. The guilt was made worse for the man felt it as well.

At that moment, she hated Andy more than ever. Hated him with every fiber of her being she could muster. It was his fault that she was feeling the way she was. But more than him, she hated herself. Hated herself for letting the man do to her whatever he pleased. Never fought him just took it. It was the same for every man.

A light tapping came from the door and someone walked in. "Jesus, Princess," Bob's voice called to her, "it's fuckin' dark in here." He flipped on the light switch and Princess was momentarily blinded. She had not even realized that the power had been turned back on; none of the buildings around her had their lights on. Bob's smiling face turned to her. "Get up!" he commanded. "You have work to do."

"I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm hurt."

A sigh left Bob as he ran his long fingers through his hair. "I know. I heard 'bout it. Normally, I would let it go, but not tonight. That guys back and he's askin' for ya. He won' take anyone but cha." He walked to the bed and knelt down so that he was face to face with the still laying Princess. "With how much money this man is dishing out, I can't refuse him. I don' know where he got it all, but he's got a lot. He doesn't seem to care an ounce 'bout it either."

The lowest growl Princess had ever issued came from deep within her chest. She sat up quickly, paining herself and frightening Bob. "Fine!" she shouted. "I'll fuckin' go! Gotta take a shower first! The man likes his women clean!"

The corner of Bob's mouth twitched as he fought back a smirk, watching her storm to the bathroom. That was the first time he had witness Princess actually getting upset over something. Normally, the girl was quiet and would rarely speak to people. He understood the reasoning. She was frightened that anything that came out of her mouth would get her hurt. Seeing the girl upset was a refreshing sight. Made him have some small hope for her in the near future. Any fight in her would help ensure her survival in Gotham.

The inhabitants of Gotham were known to prey on the weak. To survive the worst city in the world, there was only one possible way. To fight back. To become one of the fit. Gotham would eat anyone alive if they did not do so. To not fight is to die. No one wants to be put into an early grave.

While waiting for Princess to finish in the shower, Bob sat in the chair closest to the bed. Impatiently, he drummed his fingers against the wood. To pass the time, he started to count the seconds away. Doing so did not help in the least, just made him more aggravated at how long the young woman was taking in the shower. He was ready to rip her out of it and drag her out of the apartment, dressed or not.

Bob was not normally an impatient man. In all actuality, he was the calmest and could wait around for hours. That night was a different case. He was frightened. Frightened of the man that wore the clown face paint and long purple jacket. After spending only a few minutes in the room with the man, anyone in their right minds would be scared. The way he spoke, the way he stood slouching, his high pitched cackle, the way he smiled. Everything about the man screamed danger.

When Bob had first come into contact with Joker, he later learned his name, he had wanted to turn him down on the spot. But found himself unable when he asked specifically for Princess. No matter how frightening the customer was, Princess was not allowed to turn them away. So, with his hands shaking, Bob had taken the man's money and went after the girl. Later that night, he regretted his choice.

Bib had told him what he had done. That he had mentioned Princess to the man. At that time, no one had known what Joker was capable of, but that night, they had all found out. Bib had been informed that earlier that evening, Joker had killed Gambol. He had sliced his cheek open and left the man to bleed to death, all the while Gambol's men fought to the death so that one of them might survive.

After learning all of this, why would Bob still take the man's money? Simple, he was scared shitless if he refused the man, he would end up as those men had. Dead or dying. Bob did not want to die, and protecting a whore was not a good enough reason to. Bob liked all the girls, and cared for them, but not enough to die for them. The only thing Bob wanted to die from was old age. Old age sounded real good compared to the alternative.

A question popped into Bob's mind. The same question that had been bothering him since he talked to Bib. What exactly does Joker want with Princess? What benefit was there by using her? Princess was a prostitute, so there was an obvious answer. But Bob knew there was more to it than that. Thinking hard, he saw no other benefit to the girl. Princess was not all that bright, she was young, and had no uses beyond sex. None of those attributes were enough for Bob to want the girl.

His ears perked up when he heard the shower turn off. A few seconds later, Princess came out a towel wrapped firmly around her, her hair still soaked from the water that had spilled on it. The bruise on her neck stood more thanks to the darkness of her wet hair. Seeing the bruise did not raise any reaction from the man sitting in the chair. Bob had seen the girl covered in bruises and cuts that he was now immune to their initial effect.

Her dainty feet padded quietly on the thin carpet as she walked to the dresser. As she walked by, Bob got a whiff of the shampoo that she had used. It smelled of strawberries. He liked the smell of strawberries. His ex had used the same sent of shampoo. At that thought of the woman, he felt a small stirring in his pants. That woman had been had been the instrument of his lust, and possibly the love of his life. But that was all over now, Andy had her. The good for nothing bastard. Everyone, but her, knew that he was just using her to be close to Princess. Poor Shelly, she was always the gullible one.

Princess looked at him over her shoulder. "Could you turn around, please?"

Bob shook his head. "You have got to be the shyest hooker I know."

"Just shut up and turn around!"

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Bob complied to Princess' request. He tapped his forefinger on his thigh to the beat of a song that he was singing in his head. Anxious to go, he kept glancing over his shoulder to see if she was done. They were quick glances and he saw mostly nothing.

When Princess finally proclaimed that she was done, Bob shot out of the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it over. "Let's get goin'." Before she so much as uttered a syllable, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the apartment, only giving her time to shut it. He did not see a point in Princess locking the door, her and Croc did not have anything worth stealing. Most of their money went to food, bills, and weed. They lived such a simple life.

Bob was different. He liked to spend his money on expensive things. He made enough, so why not do it? The first thing he always made sure of was that his bills were paid. Wasting his money was just fine with him, as long as his responsibilities were taken care of first. But, then again, he did make more than Princess and Croc put together. He could afford to waste his money.

After ten minutes of being dragged behind Princess, she finally could not take it any longer. The man was walking at such a fast past, she could not keep up. The pain that shot through her did not help the matter. Getting ready to yell at the man dragging her behind him, she was pleasantly surprised when he came to a sudden halt.

"We're here!" Bob overenthusiastically exclaimed. Princess could tell that the man was nervous about something, but she did not comment on the matter. "Now," he started, turning to her, "go and make some money. I'll see ya later." With a wave, he left Princess to herself.

Princess watched him leave, thinking of how strangely he was acting. Once he was out of sight, her attention turned to Bib's. The building seemed to loom over her tiny form. She shrank in its daunting presence. Something was not right, and she could feel it. Feel it in the core of her very being. But, being Princess, she ignored the feeling and walked into the hotel.

Bib was in his usual spot at the front desk and greeted her when she walked in. "You're in da same room as last time. He's in there waitin' for ya."

"Thanks," she muttered. Walking away, she made her way up to the room. The hardest part of her journey was the steps. With every lift of her foot on the high steps, pain coursed through her body. She had to pause once or twice until the pain receded to a dull ache.

After what had seemed like an eternity passed, she finally reached the door to the room. Not wasting any time, she opened the door and entered the room. At that point, she just wanted to go home. The faster she got it over with, the sooner she could do so.

Closing the door and turning around, she was shocked to see him on the bed. It was no his presence that shocked her, she had known he was going to be in there, it was his appearance. The greasy green hair that curled ever so slightly, the chalk white painted face with charcoal black around the eyes and red that covered his lips and almost went to his ears, the bright purple jacket and pants, which were raised just enough that she caught a glimpse of his patchwork socks, and the bright green vest mostly hidden by the jacket. Princess was used to weird men, but he was beyond weird. What he wore was so strange, it was tacky. It almost hurt her eyes just looking at it.

Joker, he had told her to call him Joker. Now, she could see why. Nothing he wore could be taken seriously. Too much purple, too much green. That man was just begging to get laughed at. She briefly wondered why Gordon had such an interest in the man. If he was only robbing banks, what exactly was the problem? It was not like he was murdering people, or blowing things up. Just stealing money.

With a big grin on his face, he turned and faced her. "Good evening, Princess. Surprised to see me?"

Princess shrugged her shoulders. "Ya told me you'd be back. Didn' expect it to be so soon though."

That had not been what Joker meant, but he shrugged it off. He knew that appearances weren't everything to the girl. If they were, then she would not have been able to stand the sight of Croc. Croc, one of the few men that could make him feel handsome.

Noticing that Princess was still standing, he pated the spot on the bed next to him with a purple gloved hand. "Why don't cha take a seat? I don't bite… hard."

A small smile on her face flickered like the flame of a candle. It was there, and then it vanished as if someone had blown it away. She studied the man for a few more heart beats, then, deciding it best, walked and sat next to him her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. With her right hand, she played with the thumb of her left. There was nothing interesting about it; she just did not know what to do.

Silence. A dreadfully awkward silence filled the room. It caused her to fidget and feel slightly uncomfortable. Sitting on a bed next to a man was not what she was used to. Usually, they pounce on her as soon as she closed the door, sometimes even before that.

Why was he just laying there? Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Princess did not know how to do that. She had never had to make the first move. The men always did the work for her. She did not like it. The whole waiting around thing was making her nervous.

When the bed started to shift as he moved, Princess felt relieved. His hand brushed her hair to the side, the leather material of his gloves catching on it slightly. It was not until his forefinger came into contact with her neck did she stiffen. The bruise! She had completely forgotten about it. Normally, she would have covered it with a few heavy layers of foundation, but she had been rushed. Bob had been in an awful hurry to set out, and she had just wanted to make the trip as short as possible. The bruising Andy had given her had flittered out of her mind.

"Looks like someone hurt cha, Princess," he stated dully. The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine. So childish, yet so menacing. A combination she had never heard before. "Who was it?"

Before she had time to think about it about it, the names spilled from her lips. "Andy," she whispered her voice harsh and dry like sandpaper. Why had she even told him? She did not know; it had just come out. It was as if she had felt the need to tell him when normally she would have kept her mouth shut.

"Poor, poor, Princess. Always gettin' hurt." His finger slowly ran up and down her neck. "Such a harsh life to live for someone so young." Hot breath kissed her ear causing yet again another shiver. His lips were so close, she could feel them barely brush against the flesh of her lobe. "You know," he paused to lick his lips and Princess felt it flick across her ear, "I can give you a way out. All you have to do is walk out that door with me and never look back."

Staring at the door, Princess stiffened. Her hands griped the near nonexistent material of her skirt in her fist tightly, wrinkling it. The man was offering her something she had only dreamed of before. A way out of her life, the life she hated so very much. It sounded almost too good to be true, and Princess was very used to disappointment.

But what if he was not lying? What if he was truly offering her her freedom, the thing she desired above all else. She would take it. Anything to get out from under the mob. Anything to live a life that was not full of drugs, sex, and pain. She would take it and never look back. Leaving Croc and the very few friends she had would pain her, but all of them had told her if given the chance to get out, take it without regret. And so she did. She took his offer with a simple, "Okay." Later, but not too much later, she would learn to regret her decision. By then, she would be in a padded cell in the deepest bowels of Arkham so close to the man she could hear his laughter that billowed through the cracks of the door like a poisonous fog suffocating her, curled up in a little ball thinking of how she sold her soul to the Devil himself in the guise of a man.

A large grin spread across Joker's face making him appear as the Cheshire Cat. The grin was unseen by Princess for she still stared at the door longingly. It was just too easy to get the girl. She was too simple minded. Years of abuse had made it facile for the man to seduce her with grandeurs of freedom in so few words.

Why would a man of Joker's stature want someone so young and gullible? The answer to that question was easily attainable. He needed something to pass the time away while his plan, he hated that word, for the city fruited like an apple tree in the orchard. She was, also, his test subject. He wanted to know how deep he could dig into a person's mind before it melted in his hands like an unwrapped chocolate bar on a sunny day. For his first try, he did not want a challenge and Princess, the simple minded fool, would be the perfect guinea pig.

Joker wanted to break her feeble mind. Recreate her in the image that his devious mind had processed for her. To tear her open and rip apart every individual aspect of her and change them. Cult leaders did the same thing, but he did not want a bumbling follower, he had plenty of those. No, what Joker wanted was to make her different. Change her views of the world. Princess already had a dark view of the world, but she did not hate it. He wanted her to hate it. Hate everything about it.

"Can I go home and get some stuff?" Princess asked the man, still staring at the door.

She felt him shake his head. "No, no. I told you, no looking back."

Biting her lower lip, Princess felt tears well in her eyes. She knew it meant she could not say goodbye to those she cared about as well. There were so few of them, but she wanted to at least let them know what was happening. Let them know that she had found her out. That she would no longer be a slave, but free. Free of the mob, free of her father's debt, free of the harmful hands of those that ruled over her.

A dull ache in her chest told her she was going to miss the ones she cared for. Harley, the oldest out of them, always having a smile for her, caring for her like she was her own daughter and not a friend. Princess had always looked to the woman as more of a mother than a friend. The mother she never really had. Selina, her first friend that she had made when she thought it not possible to do so. The one who always looked after her and protected her as best to her abilities. Holly, Selina's little sister. Holly, the one that never left the confines of the apartment she shared with her sister. Holly the recluse. Princess found that she could always talk to Holly, someone close to her own age. The girl would listen to her and give her advice that was always in the benefit of Princess. The one that understood the fear that she felt of the outside world. And Croc. She would miss Croc the most. He was the only man that had found the ability to love her, though she did not know why. She would never understand it, but liked the feeling none the less, albeit she felt horrible that she would never find it in herself to return his feelings. Princess could not love; nothing in the world had given her reasoning to.

The tears that welled in her eyes spilled forth at her thoughts of the ones she would leave behind. "Now, now, no cryin' Princess. I thought you'd be happy."

Princess was happy. Very happy. But the thought of leaving the only people who gave an inkling about her still hurt. She wanted to stay with them, but she wanted to escape more. It had been the only dream she had since she was fourteen years old.

Not to make Joker change his mind, she wiped the tears away and stopped their flow. It was a harder task than she had imagined. Every time that she forced them back, more would come. They pushed against each other, forcing the others out so that there was room for more. If she did not get a hold of herself soon, she feared the man would change his mind.

The grin on Joker's face widen, appearing like the crevice of the Grand Canyon, at the site of her uncontrollable tears. If she was upset about leaving behind people, which he knew that was the reason for the salty water droplets now pooling in her lap, it make her all the easier to break. She truly was not going to be much of a challenge for the man. Already, she was crumbling around the edges and all he did was whisper what she had wanted to hear. So much like the serpent whispering in Eve's ear convincing her to partake in the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

His tongue flickered out of his mouth and across his lips much like that serpent. "Don't you wanna leave Princess?" he asked her barley above that of a whisper. "Don't you wanna get out of here?" She nodded, her sobs stealing away her ability to speak. "You're tears are tellin' me differently. Tellin' me that you want to stay. Maybe I should just leave you here."

When he went to get off the bed, Princess grabbed his jacket desperately as if her life depended on it. To her, it did. Joker was her last hope, her only hope. "Please, don't. I'm sorry. I can' help it. They just keep comin'." Her head feel forward onto his chest, smelling the sent of gunpowder she loved so much. The smell helped calm her, made her think of other things. Better things.

The girl's now calm demeanor had Joker curious. Just what about him had quieted her so quickly? It was the same when he had first came into contact with her. 'Gunpowder,' she had whispered. That had to be the answer to the question in his deranged head. If she loved the smell of gunpowder so much, where she was going she would be surrounded by it. Consumed by it. Maybe, by the time it was all over, she would come to despise the smell. Hate everything that it would represent to her. He liked the sound of that. Make her hate something she liked so much.

He rubbed her back gently. He had to be gentle. If he was not, it would alarm her and his experiment would be all over and have nothing to show for it. He could not have that. The ending results had to be seen by the world. There had to be proof of what he had done, what he could do. This city, the city of Gotham, had to know the horrors of him. He'll be introducing that to them real soon, but for now, Princess was on his mind. She was not his top priority, but she needed some attending to. Just ignoring her was not an option.

Remembering something, Princess pushed herself from Joker's chest. "I left the jacket you gave me at home."

The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. A jacket should be the least of her worries. "I can always get you another. They did mass produce them." Princess nodded in understanding. He was right; they do make more than one of any item. She could always have another, though she was attached to that specific one. "Now, are you ready to go, Princess?"

"Yes."

"Then, let's go."

And so they left. Princess followed him. She followed the serpent with his whispers and sweet promises of freedom. In her naivety she never realized that it would turn so bitter, just as it had with Eve when she first partook in the fruit. With that first taste, she had condemned herself to an eternity of pain and suffering. Princess was not worried about the future, just the then. Just the man with the silver tongue that led her out of the room and her old life.

She was Eve, following the serpent and his forked tongue of lies.


	6. Bloody Fingers

Princess followed Joker as he entered a warehouse that could only be his hideout. There was nothing special about it. It was just like any other abandoned warehouse in Gotham. The only difference was this one actually had people inside of it. As they entered, they all started at them. Well, mainly her. From the looks of it, she was the only female there. That fact made Princess uneasy. She shifted uncomfortably under their heavy gazes and suddenly found the floor very interesting.

"Boys!" called Joker cheerfully. Their attention went from her to him. "I would like to introduce you to Princess." His arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled still her body was flush against his. "Princess," he started and she glanced up at him, "these are the boys. I don't know any of their names, but I'm sure they'll tell you if you're real nice to them."

She nodded. Princess did not like the way he said those words. It made her wonder if he was going to use her the same way the mob did. To keep the men happy. She did not want that. The reason she had taken the man's offer was to get away from all of that. If she would have known that that was his intentions, she would have refused. She did not want to escape one situation to only end up in the same one just in the hands of different men.

Already she could feel their hungry eyes on her. Stripping her of what little she wore. She wanted to hide. Hide away from their lecherous eyes. But the arm around her shoulder was stopping her from doing so. If not for it, she would have already taken off, out of the building and back to her undersized apartment.

"Hey, Boss," one of the men far in the back called mirthfully. Joker's attention went to him. "She looks like a whore."

Princess felt herself shrink at the words. Her body screamed for her to run, to get out of there. Her brain would not listen and she knew she was too weak to fight Joker's grip on her. "Well," started Joker, licking his lips, "that's because she is." Many of the men's faces gained smirks. "But!" The word hung heavy in the air. "None of you are allowed to touch her. If you do, I'll chop your grimy little fingers off."

A tidal wave of relief washed though Princess. So, he wasn't going to use her in that way. It lifted her unease enough to look up at the men. Most of them appeared downtrodden and it brought a satisfied smile on her face. Her smirk faltered when she saw someone she recognized. For the life of her, she could not remember his name, but she knew who his boss was. He was one of Gambol's men. Unlike the others, he did not appear to be happy to be there. She wondered what could have happened to make him glare at Joker with such disdain.

Princess' eyes narrowed at the man. She may not remember if she liked him before or not, but she knew she did not know. To her, Joker did not deserve such a look from him. He was her savior. Saved her when no other would. Rescued her from the horrors of her life and was now protecting her. Protecting her from his men. She did not want their dirty hands on her. From that point on, no one would be allowed to touch her but him. It was the least she owed the man that had given her her freedom.

Only later would Princess realize how stupid she had been. How young her mind was. Her body might have had to grow to accommodate the life that she had lived, but her mind had tried to keep some of the young innocence her body had lost. It had fought hard to stay and it was that part of the brain that had made her reach that decision, though her body was screaming at her to run away.

A yawn escaped Princess and she covered her mouth. She felt drained and ready to fall asleep on the spot. Joker took notice. "Is the little Princess tired?" he asked her sweetly. If Joker had not told him what he had in store for the girl, his men would have looked to him in confusion of his sweetness to her. But he had told them, and they all tried to hide their smirks. All wanted to see just how much the man could warp the girl.

"Mm, hm," Princess answered while nodding her head.

"Well, we better get the little Princess to bed." He started to lead her away. Away from those men's gazes. "I have a room just for you. You're lucky! No one else has their own room!"

Princess smiled up at him. He was being so nice to her. She was not used to that. Croc had been the only man to be nice to her, but he was not currently in her mind. He had been swept away soon after she had left with Joker. Joker had done what Croc could not do, he had saved her.

While he led her to her room, Princess wrapped her arms around his midsection and cuddled against him. Her eyes were closed, listening to the sweet empty promises he was making her. Now that she was tired, her body no longer protested and just followed the man. She felt safe and secure with his strong arm around her shoulder.

"Here we are!" Joker proclaimed while opening a door.

Princess gazed into the room. There was nothing to it. Just a bed on the floor with a purple cover neatly lying on top of it. Two pillows with green pillowcases sat side by side at what she guessed was the head of the bed. The rest of the room was just concrete, matching the structure of the building that they were in.

Joker gently pushed her into the room. "Now, get some sleep, Princess. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You'll need all the sleep you can get."

A question suddenly popped into Princess' mind. She turned around to face him. "Where do ya sleep?"

He tilted his head to the side and asked, "Why?"

"Ya said that I was the only one with a room. So, where do ya sleep?"

"Where ever I fall down at."

Princess gazed up at him wondering if he was being serious. From the looks of it, he was. "Um," she shifted uncomfortable. What she was about to do, she had never asked before. "Would ya mind sleepin' with me? I haven' slept alone in a long time and don' feel safe without someone next ta me."

A burst of laughter almost sprung up from Joker. The girl was actually asking him to come to bed with her. Already he had her, had her where he wanted her. It had been easy to make her feel safe around him. All he had to do was be kind to her. Such a simple thing for such a simple mind.

Taking a step forward, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I might just have ta take you up on that offer, but I have ta talk ta the boys and have some work to do. You get some sleep."

Princess watched him intently as he walked out the door. Sighing, she shut off the single overhead light and started to undress herself. It was obvious that there was nothing for her to wear to bed and she be damned if she was going to keep her current outfit on. It was just too uncomfortable to sleep in.

Once she had her boots of and was void of any clothing, she slipped herself under the covers. Princess rolled over, facing away from the door. Underneath the crack and slim line of light shown through and she could not sleep with it in her face. After only a few minutes of lying down, she slipped into the fitful darkness of slumber.

When the mattress shifted as a heavy weight flopped upon it, Princess woke slightly. Her grumbling form was pulled toward the body by the waist until her back was touching his chest. She had known it to be male from his callused and large hands.

As his hand slid from her waist and down, Princess stiffened. She had originally thought it to be Joker, but had been sadly mistaken. This man's hands were too large, the hands not rough enough, the fingernails too short. The smell of gunpowder was absent.

"Stop," Princess pleaded when the man's lips came into contact with her neck. "Please." On the verge of tears, she had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing.

The man did not stop but chuckled when Princess' back involuntarily arched as his thumb lightly brushed her clit. That was when she caught a whiff of the rancid smell of stale whiskey. How she hated that smell. Made her recollect the horrible memories of her childhood, which she desperately pushed away. Pushed them away for if she did not, she would not react to the man's touch and she feared he would hit her for it.

When the man's fingers roughly entered her, a small whimper fell out of her lips to mingle with the tears she could no longer repress. "Please," she sobbed.

"Shut up," he slurred. "I'll pay ya later."

Princess was not worried about the money. What she was worried about was the thing in his pants, already hard and ready pressing on the cheeks of her butt. Princess did not want it or him, but it appeared that she was going to have no say in the matter. She never did. Only Croc had the privilege of her willingly crawling into bed with him.

Croc. Oh God, she missed him terribly. Even more so now. Croc would have protected her. Would have beaten the man to a bloody pulp if she so wanted. And she did, she wanted it more than anything at that moment. But Croc was not there, would not even know where she was. She had left him without saying goodbye, taken by a man that was supposed to be her savior. Who said that he would protect her. The question of Joker's whereabouts lingered on her mind as the man rolled her onto her back.

At that moment, Joker was out and about doing whatever it is he does. He had left that man, along with three others, to watch the hideout. The thought of disobedience had never crossed his mind. Normally, that would not have been a problem, but the man had decided to get drunk. With his mind intoxicated and his Boss gone, he had thought it a wonderful idea to have his fun with the girl.

For the man, he was named Bellows for his ability to inhale a cigarette in two big lung filled hits, this was unusual. He was an older male and liked his women to be the same. But it had been so long for him. When the opportunity arose, he had decided to take it. Take it just like the other three men were going to after him. He had been lucky enough to win the toss up and have first try at the girl.

When she heard the metal clink as he unbuckled his belt, Princess shivered violently. Already her fingers were digging into the thin sheet threatening to tear them. Desperately she tried to go numb, but to no avail. The numbness would not come. It had abandoned her, just like everything else, and left her to feel Bellows' touch.

With a grunt, Bellow's pushed inside of her. Princess covered her face, hiding her tears and shame. The gesture was lost on the man for it was dark and he could not make out anything. It did not matter to him. All he cared about was getting what he wanted and finishing before Joker showed up, which he knew would be shortly.

The men waiting for their turns heard Princess' sobs. They almost felt bad for the girl. Almost. The three looked to each other and each had a grin or smirk plastered on their faces. The smirks were wiped off their faces when a loud bang echoed across the room as the front door was slammed open. The Joker had returned.

The three men looked at each other anxiously. Joker had returned, and they were going to be in a lot of trouble. He had told them to watch her and make sure no one touches her. They had done the complete opposite. They were going to be dealt a heavy punishment.

As Joker entered the room, Princess' sobs died away, but there was no relief for them. Bellows was still in the room with the girl. If he exited, they would be in trouble. If Joker entered the room, they would be in trouble. Well, they would be dead either way and they all knew it. All of them thought of ways to get themselves out of it, but nothing would come. The initial shock and fear of the man was still upon them and it left their minds blank as unlined paper.

Joker stared at the three men, studying them. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, "Where's Bellows?" None of the men answered. Just stuttered and stumbled over the words that were supposed to come out.

A smile nearly crossed Joker's face, but he fought hard to keep it down. He knew what was going on. He had purposely left those select four behind. They were the ones most likely to disobey him. No, it had not been a test of obedience. He had wanted them to disobey. It had been his intention to walk in and seemingly save the girl, warping her feeble mind just a little more.

He was having so much fun deranging the girls mind. The only thing he regretted was how easy it was. Too easy. Princess was just too simpleminded to defend herself against his assaults. It had never occurred to her that he was just toying with her. Playing with her mind. He was a little boy with a magnifying glass and she was the unfortunate ant to be caught in its beam. Just how long would it take for her to burn, was the question on his mind.

At the pace he was going, not long. Not long at all. Joker gave her a day, two max, before she completely succumbed to his will. She was such easy prey for a master hunter like himself. Maybe he should have picked someone with more mind capabilities than her. No. No. That would not have worked at all. The faster he demented her, the more frightened people would become of him. Fear was the master of all. All those caught in its grip soon died, or, at least, a piece of them did.

Joker turned to the men behind him. In between two of them, a man hung slack in unconsciousness, dressed at Batman. All of them knew that he was not the real Batman, his costume was too simple and he was just too big. Hockey pants were not very flattering to his figure in the least. "Take him to the back room," he commanded. He did not stick around to see if his order would be obeyed, he already knew those men would do anything he asked of them.

Walking to the door of Princess' room, Joker placed his hand on the handle and was ready to rip it open, but someone beat him to it. There stood Bellows in the doorway, a look of horror stricken on his face. Even his drunken mind, Joker could smell the booze on him, he knew he was going to die. Already the man was pleading and begging him, and Joker had not even touched him yet.

Looking over the man's shoulder, Joker's height allowed him to do so with ease, he spotted Princess. She was curled up into a ball, cradling the cover, and sobbing harshly and silently. It was as if she were afraid that if she cried too loud, someone would come in and do more harm to her that had already been done. And that was just the case. In what she now considered her old life, it would have happened. Andy would have been the one to beat her, Mike would have yelled at her, and Bob would have just ignored the tears and sent her to the next man.

With a look of pure anger, though he was feeling such delight, Joker's gaze returned to Bellows. "What's the matter Bellows?" he inquired to the man harshly. "Can't keep your hands to yourself, hmm?"

"Boss, I-" Bellows started but was cut off when Joker placed a finger on his lips.

"Sshh, sshh. I warned ya, didn't I? Told ya to keep your filthy hands off of her. Did ya listen? No, of course ya didn't. Now, I'm going to have to chop your fingers off." From his pocket, Joker withdrew one of the many knives hidden within the jacket. He grabbed Bellows' hand. "Hold still, this might hurt a bit."

Rolling over, Princess watched as Joker started to cut off the man's fingers one by one. Dark red blood pulled out from the open wounds and Bellows' screams echoed across the building. If Princess had been in her right mind, she would have been horrified. Instead, she felt nothing. She was completely empty and devoid of any feelings whatsoever.

Sometime, amongst the screams and the blood now pooling at the men's feet, she had started to giggle. Her eyes were wide in terror, but a bubbly laughter erupted from deep within her. The sound frightened her at first, but then she welcomed it. Why not take a little enjoyment out of the man's torture? He had hurt her, so why should she take pleasure from his pain as he did with her.

The sound of Princess giggles hit Joker's ears. It sounded like music to him, her insane giggle. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it would not take longer to break her. Well, she was already broken, that much was evident. Shatter. Shatter was the correct term. Something that has been broken cannot be broken again, only shattered. Shattered into smaller pieces. Princess' mind must be in a million pieces by then.

After he had removed all of Bellows' fingers, he kicked the man out of the room and onto the floor. Joker demanded that someone clean up the mess, and then slammed the door closed behind him. When his intense brown eyes landed on Princess, the giggling stopped. Fearful that she was next, Princess sat up and back up to the cold concrete wall, holding the cover to herself as if it would protect her from the man's wrath. It was useless, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

A sigh heaved itself from Joker's chest as he stared down at the girl. She was so simple. So naïve. Yet so much fun. He liked his time with her. Toying with her mind was amusing. Every reaction to a situation he had thrown her into never seemed to disappoint. He could almost hear her mind shattering to pieces as a mirror did when it hit the floor. It was such a beautiful sound, like music to his ears. Any sadist would enjoy the sound, just as much as they would enjoy the screams bursting forth from their victims' lips.

"Poor, poor, Princess," muttered Joker as he started to remove his bloody leather purple gloves. He tossed each one to the ground and did the same with his jacket after he shrugged it off. This left him only in his green vest with the silver honeycombed patterned shirt underneath, his purple hardly noticeable pinstriped pants, and his dirty brown shoes with the patchwork socks hiding underneath them. When he kneeled on the bed and crawled toward her, Princess notably stiffened. He seated himself next to her, leaning against the same wall that doubled as the beds headboard.

After a few minutes of sitting side by side, Princess decided to rest he head on the man's chest. He had made no move to harm her and she deemed it a safe maneuver. Joker wrapped his arm around her shoulder and rubbed it gently trying to convey comfort to the girl. She was shaking, either from cold or fright. He guessed the latter.

"Was Princess frightened?" he asked her. Her head moved up and down in a nodding response. "Did she think those other men were going to get her?"

Another nod. "He said that they were waitin' their turn," she mumbled burying her face into the fabric of his vest.

Joker shook his head. "Hm, that's no good. No good at all. Looks like I'm going to have to show those men that they can't touch what's mine. You are mine, right Princess?"

"I'm whateva ya want me ta be," she replied.

A sadistic grin crossed Joker's face. "Well then, I'm just going ta have ta prove that to them, now ain't I?" Before she could answer, Joker sat her up. "Get dressed!" he ordered excitedly. "We're goin' out!"

Without a word of protest, Princess ripped the covers off of herself and started to look for her clothes. Each article was easy to find considering they were exactly where she had taken them off at. Though it had been dark when she had taken off her clothes, she would know where they were. When one lived in the Narrows for so long, one got used to the dark.

Once she had completely finished dressing and donned herself in her usual thigh high black leather boots, Joker took her wrist and dragged her out of the room. "What 'bout you're jacket?"

"Yes, yes, can't forget that, now can I?" He released her wrist and went back into the room leaving her standing amongst the men.

From the gazes they had previously given her, it came to a surprise to Princess that none of them even glanced up when they had entered the room. They just sat on the couches and floor, staring mindlessly at the tube in front of them. During this time, Princess studied the men. She was shocked to see that most of them were close to her age, some of them appeared to be younger than her, and looked as if they should be at home studying for a high school exam of some sort. Princess did not judge them. They may be young, but so was she. Not everyone had a choice in their lifestyles. It just fell onto them or they were forced into it, much like her. Who was she to judge those boys when she was only nineteen and a prostitute? To each his own.

After a few minutes had passed, Joker returned with his jacket and gloves, now void of the presence of blood. He must have wiped them off, or had another pair lurking in the seemingly endless chasm of his pockets. Princess hoped that it was the latter. The thought of him grabbing her with the once bloodied gloves sent an odd thrill through her that she did not like. An excitement that she felt was just as horrifying as her giggles while watching the man named Bellows get his fingers cut off.

"C'mon, Princess," he said as he grabbed her left wrist with his right hand. He did not give her time to move, but just started to drag her along, expecting her to follow. She did, once her short legs were able to catch up to his long strides.

Soon they were out the door of the hideout. They walked the dark alleyways of Gotham in silence, Joker had nothing to say, and Princess was fearful of attracting attention to them. She did not know if Joker could handle some gangbangers lurking in the darkness, but she knew she could not. When it came to fights, Princess was completely useless. No one had dared teach her to defend herself. If they had done so, not only would she had been beaten, but they would have been forced to partake in the same punishment.

The grip Joker had on her wrist tightened when they entered the streets of Gotham. Princess had not a clue as to where they were. She had only ever been in the Narrows and rarely ventured out of its premises. Her trip to the police station had been the first time she had went so deep into Gotham, and she did not even remember the way there.

"Where are we going?" inquired Princess to the man when he pulled her closer to him. He snaked his arm around her shoulder to give them a more "natural" appearance. To anyone that passed them by, they would appear to be a normal couple on a night out. Not that he had to worry about that. It was late in the night and most of the inhabitants of Gotham had deemed it safer to stay inside. They were smart and feared the night. Joker did not. He feared nothing. What could be more fearsome than a man wearing smudging clown face paint and had a jacket filled to the brim with knives? According to him, nothing. And soon, very soon, all of Gotham would see that.

"You'll see, Princess, you'll see," he chimed happily.

Princess nearly rolled her eyes, but stopped herself from doing so. Though the man was not looking at her, she knew the gesture would not be lost on him. The last time she had done so he had known and the room had been swallowed in complete darkness. His tone had frightened her that night, and she never wanted to experience it again. After seeing what he had done to Bellows, she did not want to be at the receiving end of the knives that were bulging from his pockets and digging into her sides.

What felt like several hours later, only a half an hour had passed, Joker stopped. "We're here!" he exclaimed cheerfully. Princess gazed up at the building they had stopped in front of and a frown fell on her face.


	7. Marks and Scars

The building that Princess and Joker stood in front of was thin and made of bricks. It had two large windows on either side of the door with drawings all over them, so thick you could barley see what was inside. An open sign hung in the window of the front door and beneath it, painted on the glass was the hours of business. The word "Twisted" was painted on the left window in bold blood red gothic lettering outlined in black as was the same with the word "Points" but on the right side.

"Twisted Points?" Princess asked in confusion. She had never heard of such a place before. "Why are we here?" Joker just giggled excitedly and pushed her through the door.

Upon entering the building, Princess heard a buzzing noise. It was accompanied by curses and wincing. The noise frightened her and she clung on tighter to Joker and his jacket. Why would he bring her to this place? What kind of place was it? More and more questions entered her mind as well as horrible thought. At one point, it crossed her mind that this was a place of torture and Joker was punishing her for what had happened earlier.

If Princess had grown up in a more stable environment, she would have known it to be a tattoo and piercing parlor. But she had not. She had never set foot in such a place, though many of the men that had paid for her services had had tattoo covering some part of their body. Even some of the other girls had tattoo or a piercing of some sort. Princess was not allowed to mar her body willingly. Her body was not hers and she could not do as she wished with it. Princess had been lucky that Croc had been able to talk one of the mob bosses into letting him move in with her. He had been one of the nice ones. Maroni she believed his name to be. He had taken over the Italian portion of the mob with Falcone had been sent to Arkham. If not for him, Princess would still be starving and hardly have enough money to pay her rent and utilities.

"Can I help ya?" a very tattooed and pierced young male asked them from behind the single desk. When he glanced up and his eyes hit Joker's face, the corners of his lips twitched. His glance hit Princess quickly, hardly taking any of her in. The man had seen a lot of women come through, what's one more to him. "I'm guessin' ya want ta mark the little lady." A statement of fact, not a question.

Princess looked up at Joker in confusion. Just what did this guy mean by "mark?" What kind of mark was he going to leave her with?

Joker ignored Princess' questioning eyes and grinned at the man. "Ya guessed right. I'd like ta get it done as soon as possible. I gotta show a few unruly men that she's mine. Can't cut off all their fingers."

The tattooed man smiled, not knowing if Joker was being serious or not. In Gotham it was hard to tell. Strange, sick, perverted people lived within the city limits. The man had seen all sorts. "Well," started the man, "seein' as I ain't doin' nothin' else, I'll go 'head and take care of ya guys."

"What's he mean?" Princess asked frantically. "What's he gonna mark me with? Am I in trouble for earlia? I'm sorry."

A light chuckle bubbled from Joker's throat. "No, no, Princess. You're not in trouble for earlier. That wasn't your fault. I'm just, how should I word this so that you understand," he took a moment to think of what to say, "markin' my territory. Lettin' all the others know that you're mine and they can't touch you."

That called Princess down slightly. She still did not understand just what she was going to be marked with. The only markings someone had ever left her were bite marks and scars. "Twisted Points" did not sound like a place that was going to cut her up, but names can be deceiving. She had learned that real quick.

When she had first came into the "employment" of the mob there had been a man people called Sweet. Nothing about that man was sweet. He had given her the beatings of a life times several times over. Sweet had been the main enforcer of the mob and they liked to use him on her a lot. He was still working for them, but since Croc had taken an interest in her, he had steered clear of her. Many were afraid of Croc, his short temper, and his overly large fist. Other than her, very few had met the true side of Croc. The kind and gentle side. Princess considered herself lucky for that.

But now, he was not there. Only Joker. Princess did not mind. He seemed to be just as nice to her as Croc was, and had saved her. The man she was clinging onto had done something that she had thought impossible. She owed him so much and would do whatever he wanted of her.

The tattoo artist behind the counter raised his eyebrows at her. "Is she stupid or somethin'?" he asked Joker pointing at Princess.

"No," Joker paused for a moment gazing down at Princess and licked his lips, "well, maybe just a little. But it's not her fault. Poor Princess here has been deprived of the outside world by evil men, who we won't speak of."

"Whateva," the tattoo artist stated. "Jus' follow me."

As Joker, following the man, led her to a back room, the buzzing noise grew louder. She really did not like the sound at all. It sounded like a thousand bees swarming around her ready to prick her with their stingers. Princess did not like bees, she was allergic to them. Just one sting from them would close her throat and she'd be forced to go to the hospital. Luckily, not many bees found the Narrows a habitable place.

Once they were in the room, the artist pointed to an object in the center of the room he called a bed. Princess did not think that it was similar to a bed in any way, except that you could lay on it. It was more like a couch with no back or arms and one side lifted slightly with a cousin to rest the head on. But she obeyed the man and laid on it.

While she lay there, Joker and the man sat at a desk and seemed to be talking about something. Princess paid them no mind. She was tired and her mind could not focus on one thing. Her eyes roamed the room, but could not process what she was seeing. The men were taking an awful long time talking, so Princess decided to close her eyes. When she felt the bottom of her shirt being lifted up, Princess shot up.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back down. Looking at the arms, she spotted the start of a purple jacket and relaxed slightly. When he gaze hit his face, Joker grinned down at her and ruffled her hair. She could not help but smile back.

"No good, man," the artist commented. "The right won't do. She's got a huge scar on it. Ink don't take too well with scars. Not to mention that it jus' messes up the tat." His finger lightly traced the scar that started just under the right side of her ribs down to her hipline. "A knife did that one. Maybe it's a good thing someone like ya took her."

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" Joker asked cocking his head to the side.

"No offense, dude, but ya creep me out. I've met a lot of creepy people while workin' here, but so far, you top them."

A giggle left Joker. "Many people seem to think the same. But Princess here don't."

The artist sighed. "'Nother thing I see a lot of is brainwashed women, and it looks like ya made one."

"Pretty ain't she?"

Rolling his eyes, the artist replied, "Stupid too."

Princess looked back and forth between the two men. They were talking about her, that much she knew. She, also, knew that she should be offended for some reason, but her mind was too exhausted to comprehend anything. She just closed her eyes and let them continue talking. There was nothing for her to worry about anyways.

"What 'bout the left?" she heard Joker inquire.

The swipe of the artist hand was felt on her left hip. "Looks fine. I'll jus' do it there."

The sound of buzzing filled the room. It assaulted Princess' ears and her eyes shot open. She was on the verge of running away, but the grip Joker had on her shoulders tightened to a painful one. With a pleading look, she gazed up at him. He grinned down at her. "Calm down, Princess. It'll all be over soon."

Ready to ask what would be over soon, she was cut off when she felt the first prick of seemingly a thousand needles stabbing her. As the points of the needles started to move across her skin, they left a fiery sensation behind. Princess did not like the feeling of the needles, but she found the burning sensation quite enjoyable. She was truly a masochist and wanted nothing more than for it to continue. Biting her lower lip, her hands reached up and clawed at Joker's jacket. She fought the urge to arch her back out of fear if she moved, the man would stop and take the burning with him.

Feeling Princess' nail dig through the fabric of his jacket catching his arm, Joker gazed down at her. He expected her face to be filled with pain, not the pleasure he saw. A cackle nearly erupted from him. He had never seen such bliss on a person's face before. "Ever seen this before?" Joker asked the man.

The artist glanced up from his work and smirked. "I have," he answered turning back to his work. "Happens more in chicks then dudes. Hadda woman stop me once, beggin' me to fuck her. 'Nother blew her boyfriend in front of me. Gotta say, the last was awkward, but the first was enjoyable."

"I bet. How much longer? I don't think Princess here can handle too much more."

"I jus' finished the outline. All that's left is filling it in since it's going to be one color. Hafta switch needles for that."

When the artist withdrew the gun and started to switch the needles out, Princess whimpered. She gazed up at Joker with pleading eyes. "He ain't finished just yet, Princess. Keep your panties on."

"What panties?" he heard her murmur. He guffawed at that one.

Again the tattoo artist rolled his eyes. He pressed the tip of the gun onto Princess' flesh and continued to work. The sooner he finished, the sooner the creep and his woman could leave. As soon as he had set eyes on them, he knew that they were no good. Well, at least the man. The girl just seemed to be enthralled with him. She was too stupid to realize that the man was dangerous. By the way that she clung to him, he knew that if he tried to tell her that she would not believe him.

The artist had to admit, Joker did have an entrancing presence about him. The way he spoke and smiled just made one think he was just some side show clown. But his gestures and what he said were different. His hands moved smoothly and skillfully like he had many years of practice using his hands and the knives that he had spotted in the man's pockets. And the way he had said that he did not want to chop of anymore fingers had set off alarms in the artist's head, though Joker had seemingly spoke in jest.

His eyes were the worst. Two brown orbs that had gazed at him with such intensity he thought the man was searching his soul. Just thinking about it nearly sent the artist in shivers. Everything about Joker screamed danger, but the girl did not seem to notice. She was young and stupid. So very stupid. The same question that had run through Bob's mind earlier that night ran through the artist's as well. Just why would he want her?

After a good part of an hour passed by, the artist sat up from his work and proclaimed that he was finished. Before Princess had the time to look down and see what he had done, he covered it with a thick piece of gauze and taped it to her skin. He then instructed Joker, not her, that it would have to be bandaged for a few days and he would have to rub some kind of ointment on it. Joker took said ointment that was offered to him and gave the man a wad of bills without even bothering to count it.

"C'mon, Princess," called Joker as he started to leave the room. Princess jumped from the "bed" and followed.

The artist watched them depart, knowing deep down he should have stopped the girl. He did not and would not. He glanced down at the wadded bills. Somehow, the money felt tainted and he no longer wanted in his hand for fear it would infect him. He tossed it on the nearby table and decided to call it a night.

For the second time that night, Joker had his hand around Princess' small wrist and was dragging her through town. He was walking so quickly and taking such long strides, Princess had to jog to keep up with him. She needn't bother to inquire as to where they were going. They were headed back to the warehouse, that much was made clear by the route that he was dragging her.

When they reached the warehouse, Princess legs were wobbly and she could hardly stand. Her breaths came in short pants and her lungs burned from the effort of breathing. It was only when they reached her room did they stop. When Joker let go of her wrist so that he could close the door, Princess' legs gave out. She fell to the concrete floor landing hard on her butt.

While he was shrugging off his jacket, she crawled to the bed. Resting her head on one of the green covered pillows, she closed her eyes. Her body bounced slightly when Joker heavily threw himself on the bed. The bed may have been on the floor, but the springs were still in good working order.

His thumb, now ungloved, traced her lower lip while the rest of his hand lay on her left cheek. She cuddled into his hand and nipped at his thumb playfully. His thumb ran across her lips harder and she sighed. "Did Princess enjoy gettin' a tattoo?" Princess nodded with her eyes close, still enjoying his touch. "Is Princess tired?" Another nod to his question. "That's too bad, Joker has other plans for Princess." A shiver of delight ran through her body. "But first, Princess needs a shower. That dirty man tainted her and we need to clean him off of her."

"But I'm too tired ta take a shower," protested Princess.

"Too bad!" Joker cried cheerfully. Quick as a cat he stood up, and somehow, in the same movement, threw Princess over his shoulder. Her face hit his back and crushed her nose. Luckily, the weight did not damage it, but it hurt like a bitch.

"Put me down," she squealed.

"Nope."

She released a frustrated growl. "This is embarrassin'. My skirt is too short for this."

"Embarrassin' is such a long word for someone so simple minded." Princess frowned at the insult, but said nothing. "And don't worry 'bout your skirt, we ain't gonna pass no one." As soon as he finished the sentence, one of the men walked by snickering.

_Great,_ thought Princess, _now he's gonna go back and tell all his buddies what he saw._

The further they walked, more like Joker walked, the sound of running water could be heard. It grew louder and louder with each step he took. When he finally stopped, they were in a room filled with steam. The air was so thick with it, Princess found it hard to breathe. The hold he had on her hips released and he shrugged her off of his shoulder. Princess fell to the tan tiled floor in an ungraceful heap.

She sat up to glare at the man, but her eyes landed on something different. Four men were in the room with them and each was void of clothing standing under the sprinkling water. Embarrassed and flushing, she turned the other way. Bob had been right, she was the shiest prostitute known to man.

Joker gazed at the four men intently. "Out!" he commanded them.

"Sure thing, Boss," one of them said. All of them turned off the water and donned themselves in towels. A couple of them grumbled while they left while the others smiled knowingly.

As they walked off, Princess buried her face in her knees so not to look at them. Joker laughed at her while forcing her to her feet. "Aw, is Princess shy?" he mockingly asked her. She did not answer him, and she did not need to. The embarrassment was written clear as day on her face. "Never thought a whore would be this shy." Princess rolled her eyes at the comment. "Don't roll your eyes at me," hissed Joker.

Princess stiffened, waiting for his heavy hand to land a blow across her face. Much to her surprise and delight, it never came. When it was evident he was not going to hit her, Princess gazed up at him in confusion. Was it not normal for people to strike another when angry at them?

"Did Princess think I was gonna hit her?" he inquired raising his eyebrows. Biting her lip, Princess nodded. Joker drew her in close to his body, smashing her cheek into his chest. "Joker would never hurt his precious Princess."

Precious. A smile lit up Princess' face when she heard the word. No one, not even Croc had ever called her precious. The smile was wiped off her face at the thought of what she now deemed the other man. Why was she thinking of Croc so much? He was not there, did not save her, and was there for no longer important. Right? She never loved him, but he did love her. Was that enough to be worthy of him interrupting her thoughts of the man that was now holding her? Princess did not believe so. So, she pushed him out of her mind for what she hoped was forever.

"Now," Joker started, smacking his lips together, "let's get Princess cleaned up."

Why was Joker talking to her in third person? All part of his conditioning for her. It was similar to that as someone training a dog. No one ever asked their pet, "Do you want to go outside?" It was always, "Does Snuggles want to go outside?" This sort of training was also used on babies and small children. Helped them distinguish who they are and who was talking to them. Joker's method was leaning toward the dog training. He, Joker, was placing in her mind slowly that he was her master, and Princess, was his pup. So far, the method was working perfectly for him.

She was responding better to the training than he had first thought. Even now, her blue eyes were filled with the eagerness to please him, much like a puppy. He had a thought to change her name, but Princess was such a fitting name for a pet. Many people named their female pets Princess.

"Take off your clothes," commanded Joker as he walked away.

Doing as told, Princess started to get undressed. She started with her boots, which she was very glad to peel away from the skin of her thighs and calves. With the boots off, she lost a good three inches of height. The pimps used to make her wear longer heels, but Princess could be quite clumsy. Cracks just seemingly grew in the concrete before her. Most nights, she ended up with both ankles twisted and swollen. It's very hard to get out of already tight boots when ankles were swollen making them even tighter. Bob had been the one to suggest shorter heels, and she was very grateful for that, though, she still tripped every once in a while.

Once all of her clothes were off, Princess stood trying to cover herself as best as possible. Just because she was a whore did not mean that she could not be shy about her body. She was bony, small breasted, and her body was littered with random scars, most she could not remember how she got them. The one that ran from her right hip to the underside of her ribs was one of those. There were many possibilities where that one could have come from, but she could not recall anyone ever pulling a knife on her.

"C'here, Princess," Joker called to her. Without looking up, Princess somehow managed to find where he was. Her eyes spotted his dirty shoes and she stopped before them. With no warning, he pushed her into the falling water. She yipped and jumped back. The water was hot, scalding hot! It had hurt to stand under it just for that second. "What's wrong? Water too hot for Princess?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed. "Are ya tryin' to burn me ta death?!"

Joker clicked his tongue. "The water has to be hot. Gotta get that dirty man off of Princess. Does Princess want to sleep alone tonight?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Then she should get under that water, shouldn't she?"

Princess nodded looking downcast. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she stepped under the scalding hot water. She cringed as the water snaked its way around her body. The heat was suffocating and she found it hard to breathe, or it could be that she was still holding her breath. Finally realizing that she was indeed still holding her breath, she released it and gasped in deep breaths of air and some water. Coughing and sputtering, she listened to Joker laugh at her.

"Poor, poor Princess," he cooed. "She's so simple minded."

Princess had heard him call her that before. For some reason, she felt she should be insulted. Normally, she would have been, but he said it so sweetly. Like it was a good thing. Once again, the battle of her mind and body ensued. Her brain was telling her it was just fine, while her body was itching to hit him. Deciding it best, she let her mind win over once again.

"Here's a rag and soap so Princess can clean herself up." He handed her a rag and a bar of plain white soap. "Joker will be back to get his Princess in a little bit."

He started to walk away, but Princess stopped him. "How is the water runnin', I mean, wouldn' it be shut off or somethin'?"

A large grin cracked Joker's face. "It's magic!" With his hands he overdramatically waved his hand in the air. "Now clean up!"

With a sigh, Princess did as she was told. As she lathered up the rag with the soap, Joker left to do whatever it is he does. It would seem he was always leaving her alone. At that moment, Princess was glad to have some privacy. When the rag was nice and soapy, she started to clean herself, wondering why Joker was obsessed with cleanliness.

Just like any other person, Princess enjoyed being clean. It was a nice sensation, not to mention it took off the smell of all the other men she had been with. The other men had never been worried about her being clean, but Joker was. Not even Croc complained. And there he was, back in her mind once again. A dull ache in her chest told her that she missed him, missed him terribly. But she was in the hands of Joker now, and he did not matter. Joker would protect her and take care of her.

Right?


	8. Rotting Apples

After finishing in the shower, Princess shut off the water. Gazing about her, she came to realize that there were no towels. Just how in the hell was she supposed to dry off? Did Joker just expect her to stand there and drip dry in the cold air? Maybe he did. But he did say he was going to be back. She hoped it was soon, she was really cold.

Princess sat herself upon the cold tan tiled floor, trying desperately to hide as much of her naked form as possible. It was a precautionary measure just in case one of Joker's men decided that they needed to take a shower. Having one of them walk in on her while she was cold and naked was not Princess idea of a good introduction.

With her knees curled up to her chest, she rested her head on top of them. She thought it strange how Joker did not know most of his men's actual names. Even the mob bosses had taken the time to learn the real names of their subordinates. What exactly did that say about the man? Did he not care enough to learn their names? Princess did not believe so. She thought he might just be too busy to learn their names. He had been so nice to her, how could he be considered unfeeling?

A warm hand touched her shoulder and ripped Princess from her thoughts just as it ripped a scream from her lips. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard she feared it might burst from it and run away like a scared rabbit. Turing around, she spotted dirty brown shoes. Her racing heart started to slow as she began to relax. Not taking heed to the rest of his clothing, Princess skipped up to Joker's face.

Bending at the waist, Joker peered down at her. "Did Joker scare Princess?" She nodded eyes still wide in fright. With a malicious grin on his face, Joker threw a towel in her face. "Here's a towel so Princess can get herself dried off."

Tearing the fluffy white towel from her face, Princess immediately started to dry off. She stood so that she could dry the water droplets off of her legs and backside. After she was finished, neglecting her hair, she wrapped the towel around her small frame and held the corners together firmly in her right hand. She looked up at Joker expectantly; ready to follow him where ever he may lead her.

"Now," Joker started grinning at her puppy dog eyes, "let's get Princess back to her room and under the covers before she freezes."

Turing around, he walked away knowing that she would follow. Just as he knew he would, he heard the pitter patter of her little feet following closely behind him. She was proving to be such a good little pup. Following her master around like he was her whole world.

At that time, he was. Everything she did had started to revolve around him. Princess did not love him, she could not bring herself to love anyone, but she did care for him. It was similar to that of Croc. Only difference was Croc actually cared for her, and she knew so much about him. She knew nothing of Joker. Not how he got the scars on his face, his real name, or how he had earned the name Joker. And she found herself not caring for those facts. He was just Joker and he had rescued her from the mob. That's all she cared about.

With Princess' little feet pattering behind him, Joker opened the door to her room when they reached it. He allowed her to walk in first, and then shut the door behind him. He watched as Princess' eyes roamed the room in amazement. There was nothing special about it. Just four concrete walls and a simple bed on the floor with an over hanging light on a wire and a pull string attached to it. There was a light switch on the wall for the light, but since the string was so much closer to the bed, it was easier to use it instead.

Princess crawled onto the bed, only losing the towel after she got herself under the new purple cover. She could tell that it was new, along with the sheets, because it was a darker shade than the first one she had crawled under. The pillowcases were purple as well instead of the original green she had first seen. "Why do you like purple so much?" It had been a question she wanted to ask all night and she finally had the time to ask it.

The only reply she earned was a shrug. Joker did not know why he liked the color so much. It had just caught his fancy. Purple, green, and red were just colors that the clowns in the circus wore. He wore face paint just like a clown; why not wear the same colors? He did not want to have to bother explaining it to Princess. She was too simple minded and would find it hard to comprehend.

Princess stared up at him, expectantly. She was wanted an answer, and did not consider a shrug a good one. Joker rolled his eyes. "Just like it."

Princess giggled. A sound that was similar to that of a wind chime when the wind blew. "You jus' rolled your eyes," she told him.

"Did Joker?" Princess nodded still giggling. He climbed onto the bed. Rolling Princess on her back, he rested his head on her stomach. "That's because Princess got Joker all flustered asking silly questions."

"I only asked one," she proclaimed.

"Yeah, and it was silly, now wasn't it?"

"I was jus' curious."

"Has Princess ever head to the sayin' 'curiosity killed the cat?'"

"Yeah," she replied while nodding her head.

"We don't want Princess to end up a dead cat on the side of the road, do we?"

"No," she whispered hoarsely. He was frightening her and she did not like it.

"Then, she should stop asking silly questions." He propped himself on his elbow and stared at her intently. Princess' waist was entrapped between his side and elbow. "Is Joker scaring Princess?" She nodded in response. "That's a good thing," he said as he climbed on top of her. "Joker wants to hear Princess scream."

A shudder ran through Princess' body. She turned her face to the side her cheeks flushed, and bit her lip in embarrassment. A soft moan escaped her as Joker's tongue flicked across the lobe of her ear. When his teeth met the tender flesh, she bit down harder on her lip trying hard not to cry out.

"Now, now," chided Joker, "there's no need to keep quiet. The other men won't mind." An airy chuckle released from his mouth.

Unexpectedly, Joker's teeth sank into the flesh of the crook of her neck. Princess gasped a sharp intake of breath and her back arched. The urge to rip herself away from his teeth, just to see if the feeling of her flesh tearing away from her would be just as pleasurable, arose. Before she could work up the courage to do so, his teeth had left the spot as he sat up straddling her waist.

Sometime, while he was working on her lobe and neck, Joker had kicked the covers off of her. With her now laying completely bare underneath the man, Princess felt embarrassed. Even more so when his finger lightly traced the scar. "Now, where did Princess get this from?"

"I don' remember," she answered quietly. She had just woken up with stitches, lying on the bed in her apartment. It was during the time the mob still kept her drugged so that she would not run away. Those two years were a blur for her. Recalling anything from them was harsh on her mind, so it just pushed them away, forcing her to forget. Some nights, she wished she hadn't let Croc talk her into quitting the drugs. The withdraws had been harsh on her body and lasted longer than they should have. And now, she remembered everything, except when Andy got a hold of her. She was glad that she could not remember her time with him.

"How is it Princess can't remember? Ah, Joker sees," he said when he spotted the remnants of old track marks, now scars, on her arms. "Those evil dirty men drugged up Princess, didn't they?" On the verge of tears, she nodded. "How is it Princess came to be in the hands of those men?" He already knew the story, had heard it from Bib, but he wanted to hear her say it. See her reaction.

Princess wanted to roll over on her side, feeling vulnerable, but with Joker straddling her waist she could not do so. "My father gave me ta them. He had a debt he couldn' pay off. I was supposed to do it for him."

"Poor, poor, Princess. She's so unloved. But that's all about to change. Joker's here ta take care of her."

Princess had heard similar words before, but not from the man who was once again working on her neck. It had come from Croc. He had been holding her while they lay on the bed together.

"I'll take care of ya, Princess," he had told her.

"Why?" she had asked him.

"'Cause I love ya." It had been the first time that he had said it to her. Joy, exhilaration, and sadness had flown through her like a flock of birds heading south for the winter. They came and went, all but the sadness, it had stayed with her. Forever lingering in her. A bird with a broken wing cannot fly, and sadness was her broken winged bird.

No! She did not want to remember that. Did not want to remember Croc's goofy grin or the kiss he had planted on her forehead. That was in the past. She wanted to forget the past. The here and now is what mattered. And right then, Joker was plunging himself into her.

With each thrust, Princess slowly forgot everything else. Her memories became like sand slipping through her fingers. No matter how much she tried, it would continuously escape her. But she wanted that. Wanted to forget. Forget everything of her past and never look back. Just leave the sand on the beach and walk away, never turning to look back.

As she climaxed, a scream left her and so did her memories. The mind could be a horrible and dangerous thing. Made one forget the harsh reality that they had once lived. Wanted to keep itself sane by blacking out everything that would make it go mad. It would never come to realize that those things could benefit it. Never realize that forgetting could make it go mad. Leaving a blank slate could leave it vulnerable for someone to tamper with it. Someone like Joker who could shift the initial idea of right and wrong, which he was trying to do.

Hearing Princess' scream once again brought Joker to his own climax. Hearing screams of any sort were pure ecstasy for him. His nails dug themselves into the flesh of her hips, catching his newly made mark on her. He smiled down looking at it. Possessions were a frivolous thing to him. He had just wanted to see if she would allow him to mark her in some way that was more permanent than the bite marks he had given her. And she didn't disappoint. She had let him do it. Had let him take ownership over her. He already had her where he wanted, but now he had to see just how far he could take. See how much her fragile mind could take before it completely shattered. One day. He gave her one day before that would happen.

"My pretty, pretty Princess," he spoke as he leaned over his face inches from hers. "It's past her bedtime. She needs to get her sleep." Pulling out of her, he zipped his pants back up. "Nighty night."

Standing up, he made his way across the room. Donning himself in his long purple jacket, he exited the room. Princess was already asleep by the time that he opened the door. She was exhausted and had no energy to ask where he was going, much less pull the covers over her. It mattered little to Joker. He was just going to wake her up in a few hours. A tired mind was much easier to work with. It was slower and had a much harder time to process things. Much easier to implant new thoughts into it. She would have a hard time fighting him, just what he wanted.

Entering the "living room" he saw that only one man was still awake. The rest had fallen asleep where they sat. Joker recognized the man as Doc. Doc was the smartest of all the men, and is how he had earned that nickname. He was, also, a medical school drop out. Found a life of crime much more interesting, not to mention he had a demented way of taking care of his patients. He enjoyed giving pain rather than relieving it.

"Have fun, Boss?" Doc asked him. Joker shrugged his shoulders. Doc turned back to the simple television that was on. There was no sound, just picture. Doc had the amazing ability to read lips and was very good at it. "What do you want with her anyways? She's useless."

"Experimenting."

"Ah." Doc knew exactly what kind of experimenting Joker was doing. "Messing with her mind. Sounds interesting. Working out for you?" A mischievous grin spread across Jokers face as smoothly as butter on bread. "Figured. She isn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box. Makes it easier to work with."

Though he had only known the man for a short while, Doc felt that he understood the man. He knew he would never truly know what went on in his deranged mind, but he was the closest to knowing. It was a trick that he had picked up dating a psychiatrist. That man had taught him many things and the workings of the mind was one of them.

Doc did not consider himself homosexual in any way. He had slept with women before as well. Partaking in the flesh with someone that attracted him was the way he lived. Male, female, all the same to him. The only reason he had decided to join Joker was because the man attracted him. He never expressed it before out of knowing the man would most likely kill him. Death was not something Doc feared, it was what came before it, and Joker was a man to take his time with his victims.

"What do you plan to do with her when you're finished?" Doc was staring intently at the television. A fear that if he looked at the man for too long his bodily impulses would take over made him focus all of his attention on the soundless moving pictures.

Joker shrugged. "I don't plan, I just do things."

Doc had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. That was a blatant lie. The man always had a plan. He was too smart not to. Joker just did not like to admit he had plans. Liked the image of being unpredictable. He did things that were out of the norm at seemingly random times, making him have the appearance of being unpredictable. But Doc knew that everything he did had a purpose. There was a message he was trying to send everyone, Doc just did not know what that message was.

"Are you going to kill her?"

Raising his eyebrows, Joker gazed at the man. "Why? You interested in her?"

A snort gave Joker his answer. "She's too dumb for my taste. But she's young. She has the potential to become a very attractive woman. Hate to see a bud killed before it blossoms."

"So poetically put. You'll just have to wait and see what happens. Even I don't know what's going to happen to her." In this, Joker was telling the truth. He had not thought that far ahead. His experiment had been started on a whim. The decision had been made when he had first landed eyes on her.

It had been a random night a week ago. He had come across her being thrown around by her pimp, who he later learned from Bib had been Andy. Andy had been yelling at her and slammed her against the nearby brick wall. What caught interested Joker was that she was taking it all, never once fighting back. It wasn't until he saw her eyes that he decided that he wanted to play with her. Hidden deep within the gray was fire. It was a small spark, but with some working, it could turn into a wildfire. Joker decided he wanted to poor gasoline on that spark and see how much it consumed.

Later, he would bring out that fire. At the moment, he was just testing her mind. Seeing just how easily it was to mold. So far, it had been a simple task. With just a few sweet words he had her groveling at his feet. Only problem he now had was bringing out that fire. Right now he had a whimpering puppy and he wanted a blood thirsty wolf. How was he going to accomplish that task? He mentally shrugged off the thought. He's worry about that when the time came.

Looking out of the corner of his eyes, Doc studied Joker. Normally, he would have been disgusted at what the man was doing to such a young girl, but the attraction he felt for the man made that impossible. He was now genuinely interested in what the girl would turn out to be. From what he could tell so far, it would appear that Joker was making himself a pet. But that couldn't be all that he wanted. Joker was not that simple of a man.

Something about Princess had caught his attention. It had to be more than her submissiveness. There had to be more to the girl than that. It was too obvious. Princess had to have something hidden deep within her that had attracted Joker. Doc guessed he would never know.

Glancing about the room, he studied the other men. He would hardly call most of them men. The group consisted of latter day teens, around the same age as Princess, and crazies. The teens had joined for the excitement, the crazies because they viewed Joker as a god. Doc would not go that far, but he admired the man. Admired that he had no fear and no regrets. If only there were more people like him in the world. It may not have been a safe world, but a more interesting one.

The reason Doc had first moved to Gotham was that he found it interesting. Never was there a dull moment in the city. Every day brought something different. A new terror. He happened to be in the league with the newest terror to hit the streets.

Once, he would have been repulsed, but no longer. "If you can't fight them, join them," an old saying his father had told him repeatedly. His father was the man that he had learned his thirst for adventure and blood from. That man, now dead and rotting, had taught him every trick that he knew. He had been a doctor just as sadistic as his son, maybe even more so. The apple doesn't fall from the tree, but it rots underneath it.

Doc was a rotting apple. Rotting from the core out. All of the men there were. Bad seeds people would have called them. Doc had to disagree with them. Bad seeds insinuated that they could not give life and create something new. They could do that. They could turn people into something similar to themselves. Breathe new life into them with the sweet promise of glory and fame.

A rotting apple had the ability to give life. It fertilized the soil that it decayed upon. The grass would grow and the tree would become stronger, and have give fruit to more apples. More apples that could become like those rotting on the ground. Death and decay brought life and made the good apples look even better.

The world needed rotting apples. Without them, it would be hard to tell which ones were alive and good. Without evil, there would be no good. Without death, there would be no life. Without sin, the pure could not live. Without sadness, there could be no happiness. Without darkness, there would be no light. Everything had an opposite, an opposite that it thrived upon, that it fed on.

The world needed it's rotting apples.


	9. Giggling Blood

Awake and bored, Princess sat upon the bed and stared at the wall. Joker had burst into the room hours ago and woken her up, throwing clothes in her face. He tended to throw things at her. She was just glad that it was objects made out of fabric and not flesh and bone or harder. Cloth she could handle, it did not harm her. Well, the zipper of the skirt he had thrown at her caught the right side of her lower lip and cut it, but she did not mind. It was not that bad. A busted lip was something she had grown accustomed to.

When he had not apologized and slammed the door laughing at her, Princess had grown angry. So angry, she wanted to hit him. But all was forgiven when she spotted a pair of plain white cotton panties. She had not seen a pair of those in years. There was no bra, but she was fine with that. Her breasts were small enough that they were perky and she had no use for a one. The rest of the clothing was not to her taste. The skirt was a strange shad of gray, longer than she was used to coming to mid thigh, and hung on her waist instead of her hips like she was used to, she had decided to roll it over until it touched her hips. The shirt was in a tank top fashioned and was a dark blue in color. Neither the skirt nor the shirt fit her properly and hung loosely on her. If she had not rolled the skirt down, it would have fallen off of her.

She was sad when she saw he had not thought about footwear. She was going to be stuck wearing the thigh high leather boots that she loathed so much. For now, she decided against wearing them. They hurt her feet and she was inside. Wearing shoes inside was optional. At least, she hoped so. She had not dared venture out of the room, Joker had told her to stay put, and she had not seen if the other men wore shoes in there or not.

A bored sigh left her. There was absolutely nothing for her to do in the room. She had stared at the walls for so long that she counted the cracks that marred their smooth structure. Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven cracks of different sizes and shapes. She had even picked out a favorite. It was the largest in the room and on the wall to her left. The shape of it had reminded her of something, but she could not recall what. It had to be something from her past. The past her mind was now blocking out.

She could remember only certain things about her past. Who and what she was still remained, it was the people that had disappeared. All of them, even the ones she cared about, were nothing but blurred form in her head. Even their names had slipped into the deep crevice of her mind, disappearing into the dark void. All that remained was Joker. He stood out in her mind like a sore thumb. The most prominent and clear being in her mind.

Princess shifted uncomfortably. She had to use the restroom, but did not want to disobey Joker and leave the room. She could remember what he did to the man whose name she could not recall. He had chopped off his fingers. Princess liked to keep her fingers attached to her hands. And she wanted to stay on Joker's good side. Fear that he would throw her back on the streets kept her from leaving that room.

After another half an hour past, Princess could no longer take it. If she did not go to the restroom soon, she was going to pee herself. The thought of doing so disgusted her. Only little kids did that, and she was no longer a little kid. Not to mention the mess she would have to clean up. Her bed would be ruined, and it was the only bed that she had.

Now determined, she stood up and exited the room. Her bare feet pattered on the cold concrete floor. Though the floor was very cold, it was still better than wearing those boots. When she came to the room where she had first been introduced to Joker's men, she peered around. Sitting alone on an old orange couch that appeared to have been ripped from the seventies was a man. He had hair so dark that it appeared black, high cheek bones, full lips, and had a nose that was not too thin or too big. Perfect. Pretty boy some would call him. Princess just thought perfect was more fitting.

As quietly as she could, she walked up to him. He sat on the couch, legs crossed Indian style but his posture perfect, watching the television without the sound on. "'Scuse me," she called softly to him when she was close enough.

The man turned to her hazel eyes shining brightly. A million dollar smile that would melt the knees of any woman caressed his face. A smile that made Princess blush. "Well, hello," he said to her his voice low and gentle. His voice was naturally seductive and sounded like sex on a hard wood floor. "What can I do for you?" With a voice like his, the question seemingly suggested other things making Princess blush brighter.

"Um." She was having a hard time remembering why she had come into the room in the first place. "C-can ya show me where the bathroom is?" she asked in a hush tone, embarrassed.

"Sure." He stood up. "Just follow me," he told her waving his hand in a gesture that suggested she do the same he said. And follow him she did.

As they walked down a corridor, Princess gazed about her. She was not paying attention to where she was going, and never realized that her speed had increased. It was only when she bumped into the man's back did she snap back into reality. "Sorry," she mumbled.

The million dollar smile replaced itself on his lips. "It's okay. Just pay attention to where you are going," he told her. "The name's Greg Johnson, but here they call me Doc."

"Why Doc?" curiosity forced her to ask.

"I used to be in medical school. Was going to be a doctor, but didn't like it very much. So, I dropped out." They continued walking down the corridor, this time Princess was walking next to him instead of behind. "How old are you?" he asked taking a quick glance at her.

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"Nineteen."

Doc looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. He had had her pegged for someone a little younger. She appeared no older than sixteen. Her small boney frame and round face was part the reasoning behind that. The simplistic mind she had was the main reason he had thought her younger. He knew nothing about the girls past, but came to the conclusion that it was a rough one for her to end up how she was.

Her speech pointed to someone that was not educated. To him, that meant that she had been a prostitute before she had finished school. He had so many questions to ask her, but decided against it. If he inquired too much into the girl's past, he might ruin what Joker had started. That was one thing he did not want to do. It would anger the man, and Doc did not want to be at the receiving end of his wrath.

"Well, here it is," Doc stated stopping in front of a door. "I trust you can find your way back."

Princess nodded. "Thank you." It earned her another smile from Doc. As he walked off, Princess watched him go. He had to be the most attractive man she had ever seen. And he was nice to boot. Princess decided that she liked him. He seemed like someone that she could get along with. The other men were still questionable, considering she had not spent anytime with the others.

As she walked into the bathroom, she briefly wondered where they and the Joker could have gone. Joker had told her that he was going to be in the building, but she had not seen him in the living room, nor while her and Doc were walking to the bathroom. She shrugged it off. The building was large and they had not walked very far into it. There were many places the man could be lurking.

After finishing her business in the bathroom and flushing the toilet, Princess walked up to the long mirror that took up a good portion of the wall. She gazed at her reflection for the first time in a long while. Her face was completely void of any makeup; she hadn't seen herself that way in a while. Her eyes were blood shot from the lack of sleep. She wanted badly to take a nap, but Joker had ordered her to stay awake. She did not know why he wanted her to, but she figured she should listen to him. He seemed to know best.

Walking out of the bathroom, Princess started to head to her room. Screams erupted from the opposite direction she was headed. They sounded horrible and pain filled. The loud agonizing screams frightened her, but curiosity was drawing her to them. Her feet headed in the direction the screams were coming from before she could even think to tell them to stop.

She came to a metal door that the screams were the loudest. The door suddenly opened, and the screams intensified causing Princess to jump. One of Joker's men stood before her staring down her with a look of curiosity on his face. He turned to the side looking back in the room, giving Princess a full view of who the screams were coming from.

Joker was kneeling in front of a man, carving a man's face in the same everlasting smile that he had. As the man screamed the small incisions on his face ripped wider spreading them nearly to his ears. Dark red blood pooled from the wounds into the back of his throat. The screams were turning into gargling noises as he slowly drowned in his own blood, all the while Joker's insane laughter filled the room.

A high pitched scream tore Joker from his work. He glanced up and spotted Princess. The girl had not even realized that she had screamed until Joker stared at her. His charcoal surrounded eyes narrowed at her. Standing, he took a step toward her. Before his foot even fell to the ground, Princess ran. Ran like the frightened little bunny rabbit she was.

Joker's eye twitched in annoyance. He had told her to stay in the room. What the hell was she doing out? That was no good. No good at all. She was being a very naughty puppy and would have to be punished.

Turning to the man standing at the door, Joker's eye twitched once again. "You know what to do with that!" he harshly said to the man pointing at the nearly dead man dressed as Batman.

"Sure Boss," the man answered making room for the fuming Joker to exit the room.

As he walked, horrible thoughts came to Joker. He thought of the horrible things he could do to Princess as punishment for disobeying him. Joker was a simple man. He just asked of her two things. No questions, and to obey. That's all. That's all he expected from her. But she had not obeyed. Naughty puppies had to be punished.

When he made it to her door, he slammed it open. He spotted her huddling in the far corner of the room, her face in her knees. When she looked up at him, tears streaked her face and her eyes were wide in fright. A thrill went through him at the sight of her eyes.

He slammed the door shut and locked it, smearing blood over them in the process. "Come here," he commanded the frightened girl when he turned back to look at her.

She obeyed without thought. Crawled to him on all fours like a dog, her head downcast. When she reached the center of the bed she stopped and sat on her knees. His heavy footfalls echoed across the room and she sobbed, but never looked up at him. Kneeling down, he tightly gripped her neck with his right hand. She felt the now cold and slimy blood rub off on her flesh, and a whimper escaped her throat.

He raised his hand, ready to strike her. "I'm sorry," she wailed causing him to stop. "I wanted to listen to ya, but I had to go to the bathroom. There ain't a bathroom in here. When I got out, I heard the screams. Before I knew it, that man opened the door and I saw what ya were doin'," she explained quickly. "I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me."

Joker smiled. That's right. He wasn't supposed to hurt her. He was supposed to be different from the men that she had come into contact with before. His plans had nearly been ruined. With that one hit, all of his "hard" work when have been swept away. Good thing she said something before he got carried away. He didn't want to have to start his experiment all over again.

Princess was shocked when his hand fell on her face not in a slap, but caressing it. "Sshh," he whispered to her gently. "Didn't Joker tell Princess that he wouldn't hurt her? That he was going to protect her?" The grip he had on her throat slackened and he pulled her to him resting her head on his chest. "I wouldn't dare hurt my pretty little Princess."

Soon, the tears stopped and Princess was left sniffling, cuddled into his chest. Blood was getting smeared all over her, but she did not mind. Everything was alright now. He wasn't going to hurt her. Just him yelling at her had taught her her lesson. No longer would she dare disobey him. If he wished for her to stay in her room, she was going to stay there until he allowed her to come out.

"Is he dead?" Princess asked sniffling.

There was no need for Joker to ask who she was referring to. It was obvious. It was a question he had expected her to ask. "Yeah," he answered simply.

"Why?"

He already had the perfect answer in his mind. Some other way to break her simple little mind. "He was a bad man. Very bad man."

"How?"

"He was workin' for the Batman. Princess knows who the Batman works for, doesn't she?" She shook her head. "He works for the cops. Cops are evil men, just like the mob."

She lifted her head off of his chest and looked at him in confusion. Cops were supposed to be the good guys, right? That's why they were there. To protect and serve. She could not grasp the concept of how they were evil.

Joker fought back a malicious smile. "Princess' father was a cop, wasn't he?" She nodded, not knowing how he knew that. She did not recall telling him that. "And he gave Princess to the mob. They did such bad things to the little Princess, didn't they?" Another nod. "Does Princess remember the first night we met?" A small smile played on her lips. Of course, she remembered that night. How could she forget? "Then, she remembers that cop that took her to the station. The one that rapped her."

She started to realize where he was taking everything. She remembered the way that the cop's hands had roamed her body, seemingly doing a search for weapons and drugs. How his breath had stank of alcohol. How he had laughed at her afterwards, calling her names. But wait, wasn't her brother a cop. She remembered little of him now, so very little. The only thing she could recall was that he was nice to her. Had always taken care of her. She explained that to Joker.

He sighed and shook his head at her. "Poor, poor Princess. Doesn't remember anything. Her simple little mind must have blocked all of it out. But he did such naughty things to her. Joker can see why she would try to forget."

"What do ya mean?" she asked her voice cracking. Tears were threatening to spill forth from her eyes once again. She did not understand what he was saying. What did her brother do to her?

"Sshh, don't cry Princess." He cradled her to his chest once again. "Joker doesn't want to tell Princess all the horrible things her brother did to her. It would hurt her to remember. Joker doesn't want to hurt his Princess."

Joker knew that he was lying. Her brother probably did nothing to her. He really did not know he had never heard word of him until Princess had just said something. He was just making up things as he went. Princess mind was so confused and muddled that any little suggestion would seem to be the truth. Keeping her exhausted had helped in the matter. Her mind could hardly tell up from down at the moment.

Curling herself into a tiny ball, Princess desperately attached herself to Joker. Now, she could see why he had killed the man. That man had been bad. Very bad. He deserved what he had gotten. Joker was good, and his kill had been righteous. What he had done was for the better. It was just one less bad man on the street. One less man that could hurt her.

"Now," Joker started and she looked up at him, "does Princess understand why he killed that man?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He was a bad man." She replaced her head on his chest. "He deserved to die."

It was getting harder and harder for Joker to fight back the ecstatic giggles he felt coming on. "That's right! He was a very bad man. Bad men get only death in the end. Princess is such a smart girl." She gazed up and smiled at him. "Such a good girl, Princess is."

When Joker reached his hand forward to stroke her cheek, Princess grabbed his wrist stopping him. She brought his hand to her lips and licked a line of blood off of his gloved fingers. The blood was cold but still retained its salty metallic taste. The few droplets that she had collected off of Joker's finger, Princess swished around her mouth like a connoisseur tastes wine. After being satisfied with the taste, she swallowed and worked on the next finger.

A sadistic smile played across Joker's face as he stared down at Princess. Watching her small tongue flick across his fingers lapping up the blood from his gloves was enjoyable. When she was done with his fingers, she moved to the palm of his hand. "Princess like the taste of blood, doesn't she?" The question earned no reply from her, just the continuation of her licking the blood clean off of his gloved hand.

When the glove was clean of blood, she sat up on her knees coming face to face with Joker. Her small skinny fingers ran through his greasy green hair and her long nails caught his scalp, scratching it ever so slightly. She bit her lower lip and her eyes shifted from side to side as if thinking of what she should do next. The answer came to her and she crashed her lips upon his.

Pulling her bony frame closer to him, Joker forced his tongue into her mouth. She responded eagerly, ready to please. There was no fighting for dominance, both knew who was the dominate one. Who was the master and who was the pet. Princess would do anything to please the man. He had been so nice and kind to her and deserved what ever she could give him. If he so asked it, she would give him mind, body, and soul.

A load ravenous growl issued itself from Princess' stomach and she pulled away in embarrassment. Joker cackled at the sight of her dark red cheeks. "Sounds like Princess is hungry."

"Yeah. I haven' eaten in two days," she replied. She had completely forgotten about her lack of nourishment. Strange how something so important could slip her mind.

"Well, we better get some food in Princess' little belly. Can't have her starve to death." Releasing her, he stood up quickly and went to the door. After unlocking it, he swung it open dramatically and walked out.

Reaching the living room, he stared about it. Most of the men had returned and were staring mindlessly at the screen of the television. Doc had to have been in control of the remote for the sound was shut off. It would appear that the men did not mind that fact. They still watched the moving pictures with interest.

Joker loudly cleared his throat, gaining the attention of all in the room. They stared at him with the same interest as the object they had been previously gazing at. There was only one difference. Most of their eyes were eager, ready to go out and have some fun.

"You," he shouted pointing his finger at Doc. "Um," he could not seem to remember his name. "Doc," he proclaimed when it finally came to him. "I want you to take Princess out and get her something to eat. In fact, you're in charge of her from now on. Make sure she's entertained and doesn't roam around the building. Don't want her to see something she's not supposed to. Again."

"Sure thing, Boss," Doc responded. The task Joker had given him sounded simple enough. Princess was simple minded and it would be easy to keep her entertained. He knew that it meant that he wouldn't be going out with the group any longer, but he was fine with that. Totting around a gun and waving it in people's faces just wasn't his forte.

Without another word, Joker left the men to go back staring mindless at the television. He never understood what people found so entertaining about those things. Why sit staring at a box when there was a whole world to watch burn? Now, that's what Joker called entertainment.

When he reentered the room, Princess was still sitting on her knees on the bed. She had been waiting for him patiently, never moving from the bed. He had not given her orders to stay in the room, but she had thought it best. If she stayed in the room, she would not end up in trouble. She did not want to make Joker angry again. His blunt furry had frightened her so much.

Joker gazed down at Princess blood streaked form and clicked his tongue. Shaking his head he said, "This won't do. No, not at all. Princess can't go out with blood all over her. She's going to have to get herself cleaned up. Time for Princess to take a shower."

With a simple gesture, he ordered her to stand and follow him. She did so immediately. Once again, the pattering of her tiny feet rebounded across the walls of the corridor as she followed closely behind him. They made it to the shower room. Princess was thankful that this time it was absent of the presence of strange naked men.

"Hurry up and get clean!" commanded Joker leaving her alone in the room.

After picking out a random shower, Princess made her way to it. Turning on the water, she stuck her hand under the cascading droplets to make sure it was the correct temperature. She did not want another repeat of the boiling hot shower Joker had made her take previously.

Once the water was to her liking, she stripped herself. Now bare of all clothing, she stepped under the water. Not being provided with a rag or soap, she was left to stand under the water and watch it flow down the drain. The water was light pink in color and bubbled before it was forever lost in the endless sewer systems of Gotham.

Just as the water bubbled, Princess started to giggle. She imagined that the pink water was giggling with her. Every time one of the bubbles popped, she giggled hysterically. The sight of blood used to sicken her, now she found it fascinating and funny. She wondered why it used to make her queasy. The red stuff tasted so good. She had acquired a taste for the salty metallic stuff. It was like licking a bar of silver.

Another bubble popped and Princess giggled louder. The sound of her wind chime laughter hit Joker's ears and he stood in the doorway, towel on his arm, watching her with interest. The girl was definitely a strange one. But he could not condemn her. Hadn't he done something similar? Laughed at the sight of blood as it bubbled and popped.

Another pop and another bubbling giggle from Princess. Giggling blood, she named it. That's what it was doing. Giggling. Giggling as it left the world and plunged into darkness. It was just like her, though she had not come to realize it.

She liked it. Liked the giggling blood.


	10. Cutting Reflection

A woman with platinum blond hair and bright blue eyes glares up at a man with light brown hair and dull green eyes. Her full pouty lips are moving rapidly and violently. The way her lips move and the way she holds the man in her intense glare says that they are arguing. The man seems not to care. He looks bored and ready to leave. Finally, rolling his eyes, he does so only to be pulled back by the woman. She slaps him across the face. The slap was a good one, made the man's head turn to the side. But there was no sound. No sound because Doc had the volume turned all the way down.

Princess sighed. This was boring. She had no idea how Doc could watch the television with no sound. It just wasn't as interesting. She had no idea why the pair were arguing or who they were. Not having watched television in years, she was hoping it would have been a little more exciting than that. She had given up on asking Doc to turn the sound on; he had just kept refusing to do so. It had left her aggravated and so she sat next to him on the seventies orange couch pouting like a five year old.

Hearing her sigh, Doc glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. She was still pouting. It had been over a half an hour ago since his refusal to her request of the sound being on and she was still pouting. Joker had left as soon as they had returned from getting her some food with instructions that she was not allowed to leave the living room or fall asleep. Doc understood both demands very well. He did not want her wondering around so she could not see something that would ruin the work he had done on her, and did not want her to fall asleep so that she stayed exhausted. A tired mind was much easier to toy with.

"What's the matter, Princess?" he dared asked her.

She rested her chin on her knees and answered, "I'm bored. I haven' watched t.v. in years and it's borin' watchin' it with no sound." A question popped into Princess' mind. "How come ya can watch t.v. with no sound?"

Doc's million dollar smile returned to his face. "I can read lips," he explained to her.

"Really?" Princess excitedly asked. "How'd ya learn to do that?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Doc replied, "Don't know. I just somehow learned to do it."

"That don' really tell me anythin'."

"I really don't know how to explain it. It just sort of happened." In a way, Doc was telling the truth. He didn't really know how to explain it. He just started to watch people's mouths while they talked and soon found himself able to read lips as easily as he read books.

"So, watching t.v. with no sound is like practice for ya?"

"Yes and no." When Princess gazed at him confusion written on her face, he explained in greater detail. "It is practice, but it's not why I do it. I find a lot of the actors horrible and without talent. Their whiny voices annoy me. Most of the storylines are horrible and there is too much drama and not enough action." Princess listened to him intently. She liked the sound of his voice. It sounded like what she imagined an angel's voice would sound. Her eyes darted back and forth between his full kissable lips to his bright hazel eyes that seemed to have more green in them than brown. "So," he continued not noticing Princess' intent gaze, "I like to make up my own story."

"Oh."

A bright idea struck Doc. He gazed over at Princess who still looked bored. "Would you like to hear the story I've made up for this show?" he asked her.

Joker had ordered him to keep her entertained; he did not want his experiment running around the building seeing something that she should not see. It could possibly ruin the entire thing and no one ever wanted to start over. Doc was going to make a fool of himself, but he did not mind. It was just him and the girl. No one else was there to make fun of him. They were all out crashing a party.

Princess glanced over at him, her eyes wide in wonder, and nodded her head vigorously. She really wanted to see what he was going to do. Maybe it would be more entertaining than watching a silent television. It would, also, give her a chance to hear his voice some more. It was such a beautiful voice.

"Okay," he said smiling at her. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself to look like an ass. He really never made up his own storyline. It had been a lie to stop Princess from asking more questions, questions he really did not have the answer to. Then, when she had appeared to be so bored, the idea of playing his lie out had struck him. "I'm pregnant," he said in a high whiny imitation of a woman. "Um, is it mine?" he asked lowering his voice and making himself sound like a surfer.

A little giggle escaped Princess, encouraging him to continue. "Of course it's yours you idiot!" he hissed in the woman voice. "Are you sure? You did sleep with my best friend, my brother, and my sister."

Princess giggle increased in volume. "Your sister can't get me pregnant, asshole." Doc huffed and crossed his arms. He was surprisingly having fun with this. "Really?" He scratched the back of his head. "I thought she might be able to. She is a tomboy."

Rolling his eyes, Doc did his imitation of the woman. "Just because she's a tomboy doesn't mean she magically grows a dick. You're such a retard." A confused look crossed Doc's face. "Really?" he asked in his surfer imitation. "I always thought it meant that she was a she dude or something."

Princess was full blown laughing now. She found Doc's impersonations were really well done and hilarious. His acting skills were much better than what she had been previously watching and he was much more entertaining.

He rolled his eyes overdramatically. "You know what, I don't want this kid to be yours. You're such an idiot. I'd rather it be your brother's, at least he has a brain."

Doc stood up from the couch and stood in front of the television. Princess did not mind in the least, she was no longer watching it. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Who has a brain?" he asked in a voice that was closer to his own. He turned around and smiled widely, a smile that was not his own. "Oh, Billy!" he exclaimed in his woman voice. "I'm so happy to see you. I was just trying to explain to your idiot of a brother that I'm pregnant." He turned around and smiled his own smile, looking down slightly. "Really? Well, I know it's not Jimmy's, he too dumb to get any woman pregnant. Even one that opens her legs so easily as you, Mary."

Princess' laugh intensified as his acting did. He huffed and ran his fingers through hair as feminine looking as possible. "You just insulted me, asshole." He turned again his smile in place. "Insulted you with the truth. You spread your legs for anything. I mean, you are fucking my brother and not even a hooker would do that." He glanced quickly at Princess, making sure that the word did not upset her. It didn't and she continued to laugh, hardly even noticing what he had said.

Seeing that she was not upset, he continued his charade. "Hey, dude, you can't talk to my woman like that!" he proclaimed in his surfer voice. "You're woman!" he exclaimed now as Billy. "The way her legs open I'd say she's the town's woman. Her legs open easier than a sliding door."

His brow furrowed in anger. "For that," he said as Jimmy, "we must ninja fight to the death." Doc got into a fighting pose that was used in many martial arts movies. He then proceeded to start fighting the air, making the over exaggerated fighting noise the movies previously mentioned made. "Watcha," he screamed one last time. "I have bested you, my brother," he stated in Jimmy's voice. "Now you must die!"

At that point, Princess was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes. It had become hard for her to breathe, and she lay on the couch gasping for breath, but laughing all the same. "So concludes the tale of Jimmy and his woman with her whorish ways," he told her in his own voice. "Tune in next week and see Billy come back from the grave as a zombie and eat their brains."

Princess fell off the couch she was laughing so hard. Doc had to admit, she had a nice laugh. When he closed his eyes, he could picture wind chimes blowing in the wind. He liked her laugh, and prayed that it would forever remain as it was.

He frowned down at her as she rolled on the floor laughing. Normally, her laugh would have instantly attracted the man to her. But she had the appearance of one so young, that he could not let himself to feel that attraction. He felt it would be wrong. When he had spoken to Joker, he had called her a bud, thinking that she was younger than she was. Finding out she was nineteen put a damper on that. In the case of women, if they had not bloomed by that age, they would forever be a bud. The thought saddened him slightly.

When Princess' laughter died down and she started to pick herself off of the floor, giggling, Doc replaced his smile. He did not want her to believe she had done something wrong and upset him in some way. Once she caught her breath, she returned his smile. "That was really funny," she told him. "I can't wait for next week!"

"All good things come to those who wait," he quoted to her.

Suddenly, Princess stood up from the couch. "I have to go to the bathroom," she explained and ran off.

Sighing, Doc followed her but at a slow pace. Joker had told him not to let her out of his sight, and he was one man Doc did not want to anger. Doc trusted that Princess had learned her lesson and would only go to the bathroom, but he had to take precautionary measures, just in case.

Princess flung open the bathroom door and ran to one of the many stalls. Quickly, she did her business and stepped out of the stall after flushing the toilet. With a bounce in her step, she walked to the row of sink on the wall across from her. While washing her hands, she hummed a nameless tune.

A smile played on her face. Princess liked Doc. He was a really nice guy, and funny to boot. That story he had just acted out for her was the funniest that she had heard in a while. It had been the first time she had full blown laughed since her enslavement to the mob. Just the thought of him telling her another one of those stories brought out a giggle. She knew that once the others returned, she would no longer be able to see him act like that. It was a privilege on she would be able to have. He would return to his normal demeanor once her savior and the rest of his men returned.

The smile was still placed on her face when she glanced up at the wall length mirror. She took a step back when she realized that her reflection did not share the same smile as her. No, it did not even have a smile on its face, just a deep frown. Just to make sure, Princess touched her face and feeling the smile she grew frightened. When her reflection leaned forward, placing its hands onto the counter, and shook its head, Princess' heart rate increased dramatically.

A sigh left the reflection's lips. "Princess, you poor delusional fool," it said as it glared at her. "Don't you see what he's doing to you? He's using you. Using you as some sideshow experiment."

"Who?" asked Princess hoarsely.

"Joker of course. Who else could there be? Doc?" the reflection scoffed. "No, he wouldn't do such a thing. He believes himself a man of class, of dignity. Joker is the scoundrel that would take advantaged of such a vulnerable and simple minded fool. And those are both attributes that you have."

"Shut up," Princess ordered hardly above a whisper.

The reflection clicked its tongue. "God, you're such an idiot. You'll never come to realize what he's doing to you. He doesn't even care about you. No one does. No one, except the one man that you're fighting so hard to forget. Croc. You remember him don't you? The only man that loved you. The only man that could ever love a whore such as yourself."

A tear trickled down Princess' face at her reflection's harsh words. They stung, stung so badly, but they were the truth. A truth that Princess did not want to hear. "Shut up!" she commanded even louder.

"That's right Princess, get angry. That's what we need. Exactly what we need. It'll help you see things clearly. Help you to fight back against the man. We have so much pent up anger in us; it just needs to be released. So, release it Princess. Release it and you'll feel so much better. Or would you rather be the lowly whore that you are? Forever bowing at the feet of men."

Balling up her fist, Princess felt the little spark of anger in her. It was not much, but just enough to make her punch the mirror. It shattered and pieces feel to the counter and bounced to the floor. As they feel, they caught the light reminding Princess of a disco ball swirling around in a room.

Her right knuckles were bleeding and small pieces of the mirror were imbedded in them. She paid them no heed. Just knelt down staring at a rather large piece of glass. It was small enough that only her eyes were reflected in it, but large enough to do some damage. She picked up the piece of mirror and studied it.

"Cut yourself, Princess," her voice called out to her. She did not know if she said it aloud or if the voice had just been in her head. It was becoming hard for her tired mind to process such things. "Cut yourself and see if it hurts."

And so she did. Out of curiosity, she placed the pointed jagged piece of glass to her flesh on her left wrist. Ever so slowly, she sliced open the tender flesh. The cut was not too deep, but blood welled out of it none the less. When a she took a sharp intake of breath, but not of pain, she decided to do it again, this time on her forearm. The cut was much deeper than the first, and went from just below her first slice down her forearm, curving down to the point joint of her elbow.

It was then, right after she had finished the second incision, that Doc walked in. "Princess, what's taking…" he froze, never finishing his sentence. Quickly, he made his way to her and smacked the piece of glass out of her hand. With the force, it shattered on the floor. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!" he shouted at her.

"I-" Princess started, but she was cut off by him.

"Shut up!" he hissed. "I don't want to know what was going through your mind when you decided to do this." He grabbed her right wrist and wrenched her to his feet. Joker was going to be angry with him. Upset by the fact that he had let the girl out of his sight long enough to cut herself up. She would not feel the repercussions of her action, but he would. A fact that made him upset with her.

With a strong grip on her wrist, he dragged her into the living room. Once they were there, he forced her to sit on the couch. Kneeling in front of her, he examined the wounds closely. Both were going to need stitches. The one on her forearm was going to take the longest and need the most immediate attention. "Fuck," he hissed to himself. Standing up, he went to go fetch the materials he would need to fix her up.

Princess sat alone on the couch in the living room. The television was still on, playing with no sound. She was mad at herself. Doc was now angry with her and she felt bad for it. It was all her fault. Why had she listened to the voice? Why would she do something she knew was self damaging? Curiosity. Curiosity had led her to do it. She wanted to know if it would hurt, and it had not. No. It had felt good, very good. Now, curiosity was making her wonder as to why it did so.

When Doc came back into the room, a first aid kit in his hands, she was still staring at the television. By the glassy film over her eyes, he could tell that she was not truly watching what was happening on the screen. She was staring at it just to stare. Something was going through her mind. A something he did not know if he wanted to inquire about.

Opening the first aid kit, he grabbed the towelettes it provided for cleansing wounds. It shocked him when she did not hiss in pain when the alcohol filled object came into contact with her skin. He steadily wiped her skin clean and not once did she flinch. It seemed she hardly took any notice to what he was doing. He shrugged it off. She had to be the best patient he had ever dealt with.

Taking out the curved needle already attached to thread, he started to sew her back up. As the suture entered the flesh near her elbow, she gazed down at it. As the needle repeated went in and out of her skin, she watched it in fascination. Not once did Doc see pain mar her features, only the sickening interest. It was only when the suture entered the flesh of her wrist did she close her eyes and bit her lips.

"Am I hurting you?" asked Doc only slightly concerned.

"No," replied Princess, her voice wavering. "It feels good." Her head tilted to the side like a curious puppy. "Why does it feel good?" she inquired to him.

"I don't know. Maybe your pain receptors are messed up." He glanced up at her quickly, and then his eyes went back down to his work. "Does it hurt when someone hits you?"

"Yes."

"Then I have no idea. Maybe you're just a freak."

"Freak is an ugly word," Princess quoted to him. "I don' like it. It's mean and hurtful."

"I'm sorry if I have offended you."

Princess shrugged taking care not to move her left arm. "You didn' offend me, but someone else could have been."

"Then I shall no longer use the word." Now finished stitching her up, Doc proceeded to wrap her arm in white gauze, a task that took minimal time. Taking her right hand in his, he studied the cuts along her fingers and palm. Though they were minor, and hardly bled, he wrapped them up in gauze as well. "All finished!" he exclaimed once he had tied off the bandages on her hand. "Now," he gazed up at her with the most serious expression she had ever seen on his face, "don't ever do that again. You could have died if I had been any later in finding you."

"I'm sorry," she answered looking downcast. "I jus' wanted to see if it would hurt. It didn'. It felt good. I liked it."

The corners of Doc's lips twitched as he fought back a smirk. "You're a strange one, Princess."

Holding her arms in front of her, Princess giggled. "Anymore wrappings and I would look like a mummy."

"Anymore cuts and you would have been dead," Doc pointed out.

Yawning, Princess suddenly felt exhausted. She had lost a lot of blood and her body was trying to compensate for that fact by making her sleepy. Fighting with her body's instincts to rest, she stayed awake. Joker had informed her that if she went to sleep while he was gone, she was going to be in a lot of trouble. Keeping that man happy was in her best interests. He had threatened that if she disobeyed, she would be sleeping alone. Princess feared that. Feared that if he left her alone in the bed, another one of his men just might sneak into her room.

Princess had no skills in fighting. The man would be able to do whatever he wanted to her, and she would be forced to take it, crying her only defense. Yes, being alone in the room would not be safe for her. Joker would protect her from those men and bloody their fingers if they dared touch her. With Joker, she would be safe. Safe and unharmed.

Doc watched Princess as she fought off the sleep her body desperately needed at the moment. Under normal circumstances, he would have forced her to stay awake. Those were his orders after all. But those were not normal circumstances. Princess had injured herself badly and she needed the rest. Her body, already small and fragile, could not take the blood loss she had sustained with slicing open her arm. She appeared to be half-starved and would be ravenously hungry later, but she needed rest first.

"Sleep," Doc commanded her.

Her eyes opened wide at the command and she fearfully gazed down at him. "But, if I do, I'll get in trouble. He told me not to sleep."

"I know what he told you, but you need to rest, Princess," he chided her as if she were a child. "You lost a lot of blood and your body can't handle it. If you do not sleep soon, you're going to pass out."

"But."

Doc shook his head. "No buts. Go to bed now, or I'll make you. You don't want me to drug you, do you?" Princess shook her head. "Then go to bed. I'll let Joker know what happened. I'm sure he'll find your excuse for rest understandable."

"O-okay," mumbled Princess. Doing as she was told, she left the room and headed to her own.

Once she was in it, she stripped herself of the hideous clothing Joker had picked out for her and crawled under the covers. Already, her eyes were closing. She was so tired, so very tired. Maybe cutting herself had not been a good idea. Before darkness took over her, she decided to no longer listen to the voice that had given her the idea. It was not a good voice. It had made her not only hurt herself, but disobey a direct order given to her by her savior. That was the last thing she wanted to do.

Sleep quickly overcame her, and she slipped into the blissful dreamless darkness. A silent prayer that Joker would understand joined her in the darkness.


	11. Boredom

Constantly, Doc removed himself from the seventies orange couch to go and check on Princess. He had to make absolute sure that she was actually sleeping and not up, too scared to disobey Joker. He could understand her fear, Joker was a terrifying man, but that did not excuse what she had done. It had not been an attempt at suicide, but Doc could not help but be a little frightened at the prospect of one so young cutting herself up just to see if it hurt.

Doc blamed Joker for it. Joker had been nothing but "nice" to the girl, but that did not excuse fucking with her mind. Princess' mind was already fucked up, anyone could see that, and Joker playing with it had only made it worse. If slicing herself up had been an attempt at suicide, Doc would have left with the girl. Doc may have tortured his patients, but he still had the doctor's belief of the preservation of life. Mind games were okay, as long as no one died in the end.

After the seventh time of him getting up and checking on Princess, he heard the front door open. Joker's cackles rebounded across the building, and he entered the room with a large grin on his face. His intense gaze cut across the room and landed on Doc, who was once again sitting on the horrendously colored couch. His eye twitched in annoyance when he did not see Princess sitting next to him.

Turning to the rest of the men, he ordered them to leave with a simple glare. They took the hint and left without complaint. Once they were alone, Joker turned back to Doc. "Where is she?" he growled at the man.

"Sleeping," Doc answered simply.

"Sleeping?!" bellowed Joker. "I told you to keep her awake."

In his own anger, Doc stood up and got into the man's face. Normally, Doc was an even tempered male, but he at that moment, he was very pissed. "It's hard to keep someone awake after they cut themselves up and lose a significant amount of blood." Being in Joker's face was not the smartest or safest of things to do, but Doc was too anger to realize his folly.

The desire to punch the man in the face arose in Joker. Once the man's words registered, the desire left him and curiosity replaced it. "Cut themselves?" inquired Joker tilting his head to the side.

"She broke the mirror in the bathroom and used one of the pieces to slice open her arm," Doc explained to him.

"She wouldn't have, uh, been able to do that if you had been, uh, watching her like I told you."

Doc was fuming at this point. Sure, Joker had ordered him to watch her. Sure, Joker is a dangerous man and one not to mess with. But what the hell did he expect from him. He was not a fucking babysitter! Not to mention the fact that Princess was no longer a little child and had been taking care of herself for years. It was not until Joker got his hands on her had she ever once attempted to harm herself. Yes. Doc blamed Joker for Princess' experiment on herself.

If he would have just left her where she was, Princess would have been fine. She would still have been living her hard life as a slave to the mob, but at least she was not hurting herself. Croc would have still been taking care of her and watching her every move. Protecting her from all those that wished her nothing but harm. But now, in the hands of Joker, there was no one there to help her. They were all too afraid of him. Even Doc would not dare cross him unless there was an absolute need to.

"Babysitting was not in my job description."

Scratching the back of his head in annoyance, Joker mumbled a few incoherent words to himself. He was starting to get really annoyed with Doc. He had just given him a simple task. So easy, that even the dumbest monkey could do, and he had failed. Princess had managed to get away from him long enough to cut herself up.

Normally, he would have killed the man on the spot. Unfortunately for Joker, he trusted no one else to actually watch the girl. Some how, the others would mess up what he had done to her. They were all just as simple minded as she. Something would slip. Joker knew if it had been any other than Doc watching her that night, she would have been dead and he'd just have to start all over again. Something he did not want to do.

Princess was the perfect test subject. Her abused mind had already been messed up, so toying with it was even easier. He really was not trying his hardest with her nor did he have to. She just took everything he told her and believed it all. Even the bit about her brother. He had somehow actually made her believe that her brother had hurt her in some way. Never said what he did, but she had assumed rape. Just the simple word "naughty" had made her come to that conclusion.

Without a word to the man, Joker walked away. He really did not have anything to say, nor did he want to waste time thinking up something. His time was better spent working on the girl. He would get much more interesting results from that. Yelling at Doc would come to nothing. The man would just roll his eyes at him and walk away.

Doc was one of his less fearless men. He did not find Joker as frightening as the others. Then again, Doc could be frightening himself. The other men were uncomfortable around him for reasons unknown to Joker. If he would have paid attention, he would have come to realize that it was Doc's sexual preference that made the men uncomfortable. Though Doc was not gay, the men still viewed him as such because he had openly admitted to sleeping with men. Just like any straight men, they all believed that he wanted them.

Rolling his eyes, Doc made his way back onto the couch. The rest of the men started to pile back into the room and sat down where ever they could. Not one of them sat on the couch next to Doc, earning them another roll of his eyes. It was not like he cared what they thought. They were unimportant. He thought them all idiots. Just because he partook in the pleasures of male flesh does not mean that every single male got him all hot and bothered. In fact, it was the opposite. Most males disgusted him, like those sitting on the floor. All of them, he found repulsive. It was not because of what they do or who they worked for, how could he judge them on that when he worked for the same man and did similar things. No, it was the fact that they were all physically repulsive.

Each and every one of them had some physical attribute that Doc disliked. It varied from horrid eye color to the shape of their nose. Doc was not into emotional connections, just the physical. Emotions just got people hurt in the end, and he did not want to be hurt again. So, keeping with the initial physical attraction was to his best advantage. With just sex he could not get hurt. Well, he could, but who doesn't like a little pain here and there?

One of the men made the mistake of turning on the sound of the television. "What do you think you're doing?" Doc asked the man harshly.

"I'd like ta hear what they are sayin'," the man snidely remarked.

"Well, I don't, so turn the volume back down. Now."

"No one cares what you like, faggot."

Oh, how Doc hated that word. The word that had played on the lips of many a bigots. Yes, he was different, but he did not need others to point that out. He already knew that, and they were just stating the obvious making themselves look all the more stupid. A sick smile appeared on Doc's face. "You do realize that when you get seriously injured, I, the faggot you so called me, will be the one to work on you." The man looked up at him, confusion on his face. He knew that, what was the point in saying so? "You never know. My scalpel might accidently slips and," he let the sentence hang for a moment, "you won't be able to walk ever again."

Paling, the man turned down the volume. All of them now looked at Doc in a new light. No longer was he the "faggot," but the man that could either cure them or kill them. They had better stay on his good side if they did not want the latter. They may not fear him as much as Joker, but they would think twice about what they did around the man. Doc stretched out on the couch and watched the once again silent television, the sick smile still on his perfect lips.

As Joker entered the room, Princess was still fast asleep on the bed. She was covered up to her neck, but her bandaged arm hung out settling next to her head. Her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythmic pattern telling Joker that she was indeed asleep. Scratching the back of his head in annoyance, he decided on what to do with the girl. She had disobeyed him all that's all that mattered to him. Pets are not supposed to disobey their masters.

With a growl, he kicked the bed hard. "Wake up!" he bellowed in his frustration.

Princess, used to being woke up in such a manner, shot up. With groggy eyes, she gazed up at Joker. At seeing the man, she smiled slightly. The smile vanished when she saw that he was frowning at her. "Is somethin' wrong?"

A cackle left Joker's lips and Princess shivered. She could feel a hidden danger in the laugh. "Is somethin' wrong?" he mocked her. "I'd have ta say somethin' is wrong. Princess disobeyed Joker. Joker doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit." With each word he got closer and closer to her until he was sitting on the bed face within inches of hers.

"I'm-"

Joker shook his head, cutting her off. "No apologies, Princess. It's too late for that." Joker heaved a sigh and shook his head in mock disappointment. "I can't believe my Princess. She didn't listen to me. I'm so disappointed in her right now. Not only did she not listen to me, she cut herself up. Marred her pretty skin. Now, Joker doesn't know if he can stand the sight of her." With that being said, he turned away from her.

Tears welled in Princess' eyes. She had done a horrible thing and upset the man. At the time, she had not realized that he would be so disappointed in her. She had not even been thinking of the future consequences of her actions. All she had wanted was to see if it would hurt her or not. Now, more than ever, she wished that she had not listened to that voice. It had gotten her in trouble.

It was all that bitch in the mirror's fault. She had done this! Only she was to blame. She did not like Joker and wanted Princess away from him. That bitch had known that Princess cutting herself would upset the man. Now, Joker was mad at her and she could only blame her reflection. Of course, trying to explain that to the man would only make her seem crazy, so she kept her mouth shut about the topic.

"I jus wanted ta see if it would hurt," whispered Princess.

Her soft spoken proclamation brought a smile on Joker's lips. A smile that he forced back when he turned to her. "And did cutting herself hurt Princess?"

"No. It felt good." She gazed at him and tilted her head to the side. "Why? Why did I like it?"

"That's because you're a freak, like me!"

"Freak is an ugly word."

"Yeah, yeah it is. But! It can be the perfect word to describe people. People like us. We're freaks, Princess. There's nothing better to describe us."

He was so close to her Princess could feel his hot breath against the skin of her face. She shivered and goosebumps arose on her flesh. It was made worse when his leather gloved hand rubbed her upper arm. It traveled up her arm to her neck, making her release a soft sigh. The leather of his gloves left a strange yet enjoyable sensation on her skin. It was a feeling that would forever haunt her. So smooth, yet the tiniest of ridges in it. His thumb trailed across her jaw line to the lobe of her ear and gave it a little yank. A small moan left her.

"Princess is going to be a good girl from now on, isn't she?" A nod from the girl was the reply to his question. "She ain't gonna cut herself up anymore, is she?" She shook her head. No longer was she able to find the ability to speak with his other hand now caressing the side of her face. "Princess is going to be a very good girl for Joker, right?" She nodded once again.

Of course, she was going to be good. Never again did she want to see Joker's disappointment. It had hurt her to see him like that. Had tore at her insides, opening wounds she could not recall where she had gotten them from. No. Never again would she listen to that voice in her head. It was bad, so very bad. Made Princess slice herself open and made Joker look at her that way, a way that she could not stand. A look that she felt would kill her if she witnessed it again.

Soft flesh sat between her teeth as she bit down on the crook of Joker's neck. Princess had not even realized what she was doing, having been so deep in her own thoughts. What she had been thinking was now gone and she could not remember what it was. His jacket was now gone and her tiny trembling fingers were working on the buttons of his shirt. Joker's airy and seemingly wheezy chuckle filled her ears as she finally got the last button undone.

Joker was still chuckling at her as she worked on the button of his pants. Somewhere along the lines, Princess did not know when, he had taken off the leather purple gloves and was digging his nails into her back. Only when he started to slowly drag his nails across her back did she remove her teeth from his flesh. She inhaled sharply and shuddered.

When Princess finally managed to get his pants undone, Joker stopped her by gripping her wrist tightly. Her gaze fell on his face and she pouted. He nearly laughed at the sight. What a fool she was. So easily manipulated. Joker did not need this. Did not need the sex. It was just another method he was using to mess with her head. It had been the easiest method by far. She responded so well to it, and all the other methods he had used. She truly was the perfect test subject.

"Now, now Princess," he chided. "None of that now. Princess hurt herself and needs her rest. She must have time to heal."

"But," whined Princess.

"No buts. Time for Princess to get her beauty sleep, not that she needs it." A dark blush formed on her cheeks and he chuckled at her. Releasing his hold on her, Joker shoved her back onto the bed. "Sleepy time for Princess."

She nodded, resting her head on the purple covered pillow. "Will ya lay with me 'til I go ta sleep?"

Joker nearly frowned at the request, but held it back. "Sure. Yeah, I'll lay with Princess 'til she goes ta sleep."

Resting his head on the extra pillow, he laid himself on his back with his hands behind his head. He was not planning to fall asleep, so there was no reason for him to try and get comfortable. There was still too much for him to do to fall asleep. Since starting his little escapade on the city, he could not recall the last time he closed his eyes and slept. It had to be a few days. He was not tired in the least, so why should he care when he fell into that blissful darkness called sleep. He could rest when he was dead. Then, he would have plenty of time to do that.

Princess cuddled her self next to him, laying her head on the crook of his arm. Though she fought tooth and nail not to, slowly her eyes closed themselves. It was hard to fight back sleep when the body so desperately wanted and needed it. When she finally allowed herself to sleep, Princess dreamed. Dreamed of faces and images of the people and places she had once known before Joker had warped her mind. Happy times, pain filled times, and times that had no emotion attached to it. She did not like these dreams. She wanted to wake up, but her body would not allow her to do so. She was stuck seeing them until her mind was fully rested.

Joker stared down at Princess as she shifted in her sleep. A strange feeling overtook him. No, it was not strange. He knew the feeling very well. It was… boredom. He had grown bored of Princess. No longer did she interest him. He had already done what he had set out to do. It had taken a measly two days to do so. Now, he wanted a new pet. A new mind to train. He would not be able to do that unless Princess was gone.

Well, it would be interesting to see what her reaction to the new pet would be. No, he already knew what her reaction would be, and it would not be interesting in the least. She would just mope around and stare at him with her puppy dog eyes. Princess would never get the nerve up to do anything but just that. She had been too beaten down.

Pathetic is what she was. Utterly and totally pathetic. Never would she be able to stand up for herself. Now that he had spent a significant amount of time with the girl, he believed that spark he had saw in her eyes would never ignite. One day, it would just go out and it would be as if it never were. There was nothing he could do to change that, so why bother trying?

Getting rid of her was his only option and he was going to do just that. As carefully as he could, so that she did not wake, he slipped his arm from under her head. Once that feat had been accomplished, he stood and started to redo all of his buttons. That task took him minimal effort and he was out the door, jacket in hand, heading to the living room.

When he entered the living room, now donned in his purple jacket, all eyes were on him. Well, all except for Doc's. Doc, who was lying on the couch, was still angry at the man and did not want to see him. It was unfortunate for him that Joker had decided that he was going to be the one to get Princess out of there. He could not very well do it himself. Princess might wake and then there would be the whining and the begging, things that he did not want to deal with. He might lose his temper and kill her. Like he cared whether she lived or died, he just did not want to put out the effort. She was not worth it.

Joker flopped himself on the end of the couch, Doc moved his legs not wanting the man to touch him, and rested his head in his hand, elbow placed on the arm rest. "I'm bored," he stated to them all.

Smiles grew on most of the men's faces. They believed that they were all about to go out and do something. Something that Joker would find fun, as would they all. Already they were shifting in their many positions on the floor, ready for some action and excitement. All of them were itching to go out.

"Get her out," Joker commanded. The smiles fell and disappointment ensued. That's not what they were hoping for.

"What?!" exclaimed Doc. He gazed at the man, mouth open in shock.

"Get. Rid. Of. Her." Each word was said between gritted teeth. Though he had a smile on his face, they all knew that he was angry. He was staring at Doc through narrowed eyes.

"Let me get this straight," started Doc. "You mess with her mind, make it to where she worships the ground you walk on, and now you want to get rid of her. Throw her away like rotted meat?"

"Yep. Now, get rid of her." A malicious smile spread on his face. "Get rid of her or I'll give her to them." He pointed to the men on the floor. Many of them looked very gleeful at the prospect.

Doc stood from the couch. "Fine, I'll get rid of her," he whispered and he walked off. He mumbled "sick bastard" as he passed Joker.

Joker cackled in response. Abruptly he stopped when he realized that the men were staring at him in disappointment. "What?!" he shouted at them. He knew why they were upset. They had wanted their turn at Princess and now they could never have it. Joker had dangled a piece of meat in front of hungry dogs and just when it was within reach, he had snatched it back.

Tired of their stares, Joker stood up and walked away. As he ambled through the building, he passed Princess' room and gazed through the open door. Doc was standing before the bed, studying the girl, trying to decide the best way to get her out without waking her. He did not know how heavy a sleeper Princess was and did not want to chance rousing her.

If it had not been for Doc scratching the back of his head and muttering to himself, Joker would have thought something else. Whatever Doc had been thinking or not thinking, Joker did not care. He just wanted the girl gone. Gone and away from him. His time would be better spent doing something else rather than messing with her feeble mind. Oh yes, he had definitely made the wrong choice when picking her.

Doc could feel the man behind him. Could feel him silently commanding him to hurry up and get rid of Princess. Well, Doc was going to take his sweet time in the matter. He realized that Princess would not be waking any time soon. She had lost a significant amount of blood and her body needed to recuperate from it. So, let the man stand there and glare at him. Doc could care less.

It was only after Joker had walked off did Doc finally decide it was time to go. Piling what little clothes she had on her chest, he lifted her into his arms, covers and all, trying not to wake her. She was much lighter than he had anticipated. Having tried to become a doctor, he knew it was not healthy. She needed to gain some weight. A task he doubted would ever happen.

Doc froze when Princess moaned. He relaxed when she did not wake, but cuddled into his chest gripping the fabric of his shirt. As quickly and quietly as possible, he got her out of the building. His eyes cut across the nearly vacant parking lot, searching for the van that they had previously used to go get something to eat earlier that day. It was easily found and he briskly walked to it.

After he reached it, he shifted Princess so that he could open the side sliding door. Once the door was securely opened, he placed her in the row of seats directly behind the two front ones. All the while this was going on, Princess was still fast asleep.

Once Princess was in place, Doc shut the door and jumped in the driver's seat. He had no need to search for the keys, they were he had last put them, in the visor. They fell into his lap with a jingle when he pulled it down. He picked up the keys and found the correct one and started the van. The engine roared to life. Placing his foot on the brake, he shifted the vehicle into drive.

Suddenly, Doc felt a hate toward Joker. Hated him for making him do this. Hated him for what he did to Princess. Doc liked the girl. She was sweet and kind. She did not deserve what happened to her. Joker was sick and twisted. He did not care who he hurt, and never would. He had no empathy. His heart was a black hole. Dark and unfeeling, sucking the life out of everything around it.

But what could Doc do? He had been sucked into that hole and was now trapped. Once you were in the Joker's circle, the only way out was death or to be caught by the cops. Neither one of those options sounded appealing to Doc. Princess was lucky. Joker was just letting her go. Then again, she had never been in the circle, just a victim of his sick games. She would be better off without the man. Maybe, just maybe, her mind would be able to reverse the damage done to it out of the presence of the man. Maybe, if she were lucky.

Sitting at a red light, Doc tried to decide on where to take her. He could always take her back to the Narrows where she had come from. No. That was not a good idea. She would just be back in the hands of the mob. They would once again throw her on the streets and force her to sell her body. Doc was not comfortable with that idea. It was the reason why she was where she was in the first place.

His second option was just as appealing as the first. Just leaving her somewhere in the middle of Gotham, as far away as Joker and the Narrows as possible. Even in the nicest part of Gotham she could end up dead. The wicked lay everywhere within the city limits. She would be in trouble no matter where she ended up.

The third and fourth option he wanted nothing to do with. Killing her was not something he could bring himself to do. He had never killed anyone before. Torture was his thing, not killing. Then, there was turning her over to the cops. It was the safest of the choices, but there was one problem. In doing that, he would have to turn himself in. Even if he left her at their doorsteps, he would be spotted. Doc was a wanted man and all it would take would be one fingerprint run and he would be locked up for a very long time, another thing he did not want.

Looked like option B was the one he was going to have to go with. The light had long ago turned green and he stepped on the gas peddle. Driving into the night, he searched for the best place to drop the sleeping girl off at. Not many of his choices looked very appealing, but he was going to have to pick one.

The roads in Gotham were not the greatest. Large potholes were randomly placed throughout the street and he could not avoid a single one of them. It wasn't until a very large one that Princess stirred. Groggily she sat up and looked around her. Doc's heart stopped.

Shit.


	12. Bigger Monster

Princess felt her whole body jolt and she woke. With sleepy eyes she sat up and looked around her. She was confused. Why was she in the van? Hadn't she fallen asleep on a bed next to Joker? Where was he? She had spotted Doc but not him. What was going on?

It was not until Doc slowed down to a stop that Princess started to panic. She did not understand what was happening. Doc had stopped at a park, a park Princess had never seen before. In fact, she had no idea where they were or why they were there. Confusion and panic were still in her eyes when Doc turned around to face her.

"Get your clothes on," he commanded her.

She obeyed after finding them now sitting on her lap. It took her longer than expected to dress herself. She did not want Doc to see her naked and he seemed to refuse to turn around. Getting dressed in a van was a lot harder than she had ever expected. Normally, while in a vehicle, she did not get undressed. Just hiked up her skirt and sat in the man's lap. That was much easier than what she was attempting at the moment.

Doc watched as she attempted to get dressed without losing the only thing hiding her naked body from him. He really did not have an interest in what she looked like, just wanted to make sure she was doing as she was told. He could have guessed that she would even without his gaze, but one could never be too careful.

Finally, she was finished dressing. It had taken much effort, but it was finished. She gazed up Doc expectantly, asking with her eyes what his next request would be. He turned away from her. "Get out," he demanded, hardly above a whisper.

"What?" Princess asked in confusion. "Why?"

"He wants you gone."

"Why?! Did I do somethin' wrong?" She gazed down at her arms. "Is it because I cut myself? I won't do it again, I promise."

"Shut up!" he yelled at her. Princess closed her mouth and her bottom lip began to tremble. Doc could see she was on the verge of tears, but fighting hard to keep them at bay. Crawling from the driver's seat, he knelt in front of her. "I want you to listen to exactly what I say." Grabbing both sides of her face, he forced her to look at him. "You did nothing wrong. He's a very sick and twisted man. The reason why he told me to get rid of you was because he was bored with you. He got what he wanted out of you, now he's throwing you away."Doc paused to let what he said sink in, and sink in it did.

Princess understood exactly what he said. Joker had used her, just like so many before him. She had done exactly what he wanted, thinking that he was her savior, now he was getting rid of her. As she came to realize this, she realized just how stupid she had been. Oh, how naïve she was. He had played her. Played her like a fiddle and she had hit every note perfectly. What her reflection had told her had been true. Everything it had said hit her. She should have listened to it. It was obviously smarter than she, and it knew what was best. If it ever told her something again, she would listen to it.

The tears finally started to spill from her eyes. Leaning forward, she placed her hands over her face. "I'm so stupid," she mumbled.

Doc placed a hand on her back and rubbed it, trying to comfort her. "No, you're not. He just told you everything you wanted to hear and you believed it. If that makes you stupid, then all of us with him are the same."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Princess nuzzled into his neck. "Why are you still with him?" she asked.

Doc heaved a heavy sigh. He had expected this question. There was only one answer he was willing to give her. "I'm a wanted criminal. I don't really have much choice in where I go."

Princess accepted his answer. "Now, I'll neva see Billy come back as a zombie," she muttered.

Doc chuckled. "If we're ever alone and you're not crying, I'll tell you." He removed her head from his should. "You have to leave now. Stick to the streets. Stay as far away from alleys as possible. I dropped you off in a nicer part of Gotham, but that doesn't mean anything. I'd give you some money, but I don't have any."

She nodded and climbed out of the van. "Bye, Princess," Doc closed before she closed the door. Never did she answer, just slammed the door closed. She did not believe in saying good bye. That meant that they would never see each other again. Princess had a feeling that she would be seeing that man again. She did not know what to call it, she just knew she would.

Before Doc drove off, he tossed her the cover she had been using. She was thankful that he did so. A future need of it would arise. Wrapping it around herself, she set off into the night and Doc watched her go from the review mirror. She looked so alone and vulnerable. He was afraid to take his eyes off of the mirror, thinking someone would snatch her up if he just glanced down for even a second.

It was only when he turned a corner did he start to pay closer attention to the road. Already, he wanted to turn around. He should have stayed with her. At least with him she would have been a little safer. She would not have been alone. He would not have the constant thought of her safety, he would know.

Why hadn't he stayed with her? That thought troubled him the most. There had been nothing to stop him. It would have been easy. He could have just kept the van and used it as shelter, sleeping in it at night. At least then, she would have been warm and had a somewhat comfortable place to be. She would not have been alone and on the streets. Food may have been a problem, but he was sure he could have come up with a solution to that as well. People have lived on the streets and survived for years. If they could do it, surly they could have.

It was too late now. He was already driving back to the warehouse. Already at least a mile away from her. He could not very well turn around. She was probably already hiding somewhere, trying to find a place to sleep away the rest of the night. It was useless, he told himself. He would never be able to find her again. She was long gone and so was he.

An eternity passed before he made it back to the hideout. After parking the van, he got out and headed inside. As soon as he opened the door, his ears were assaulted by the sound of the men's laughter. They had the television turned up to an annoying volume and were shouting over it.

That was exactly the reason why Doc always kept the volume off. Others would just shout over it, giving him nothing but a headache. He was already getting one. They seemed to come to him easily when around the others. They always shouted, screamed, and laughed annoyingly loud at crude jokes. Most of those jokes, Doc was at the butt of. They seemed to love making jests about his sexual preference. None of them ever realized that he had slept with woman before. And he had, more than men.

When he entered the living room, the taunts began. "Took ya long enough!" one of the men shouted at him. "Was the little whore good?"

No answer was received from Doc, so one of the other men decided to give his two-cents. "I bet she was, but he wouldn' know that. He likes fuckin' men."

"That's why Boss shoulda sent one of us." Another country heard from. "At least one of us woulda gotten a go at her."

Doc scoffed. "Like she would have let any of you touch her. I saw her eyes when she first looked at all of you. She was repulsed by the sight of all of you. I can understand why she looked at all of you like that, you're all pretty damn disgusting if I say so myself."

None of the men seemed to like his proclamation much. Most of them had looks that could if it were possible, Doc would drop dead on the spot. Not that he minded at the moment. He was disgusted with himself. He had just let a dropped of a nineteen year old girl in the middle of the most dangerous city in the country at the dead of night. If she were lucky, and it seemed Princess did not have a luck streak, she would survive at least until dawn. After that, he had no idea just how long she would last. Even the luckiest run out of luck.

Doc was tired of this. Tired of their heated stares and just plain tired. It had been a few days since the last time he had slept. He knew that was not good for him. Rest was what he needed, not arguing with a bunch of blood hungry idiots. He wanted peace and quiet, and there was only once place he was going to get that. Princess' room.

None of the men would set foot in there now that she was gone. They had no reason to. Well, unless they were still sore from what he had just said. Just let them come in. They would be met with a few surprises. Not only did Doc sleep in the nude, but he knew how to fight. Another thing his father had taught him. The man, having been in many a bar fights, had told him that it was a good thing to learn how to defend oneself. Doc agreed. His ability to fight had saved him numerous times.

Doc was not one to anger easily and only fought when the need arose. But there are always exceptions. There had been many bigots, just like the men in the room he was currently in, who had harassed him and his male companion at the time. Doc loathed bigots. They shunned him for living a different lifestyle than the one that they saw to be normal. A lifestyle that even his father did not seem to mind. If he could bring himself to do it, he would kill every last one of them. As the person he was, he could never bring himself to take another life.

So, instead of listening to their taunts and jeers, Doc left the room. Left the room with his head held high and went to the only place that would offer him sanctuary. The door to Princess' room was still open making it obvious no one had been in there since her "departure." It was a blessing to Doc. Now, he could be left alone. Alone is what he needed at the moment.

Slamming the door closed, he removed his shoes. He glanced at the bed and realized that there was no cover and he did not know if there were any extras. That fact made him decide against sleeping in the nude, but stripped off his shirt none the less. He found it hard to sleep in a shirt, they were too restricting and he felt trapped.

Shirtless, he crawled onto the bed. It was soft and inviting. It was the first bed he had laid himself in for a long time. So long, he could not remember the last time he had done so. Being a wanted criminal limited ones options of places to rest. When he had moved to Gotham, he had tried living a new life, even changing his name. Paranoia had ruled over him even though he was supposed to be a new person. Even the slightest wrong he did could send him to life behind bars.

Living a life of crime was not as glamorous as the movies put it to be. Doc was constantly looking over his shoulders, watching his back. He had to be extra careful not to be seen by the cops for some just might recognize him. He could not get a steady job and earn a good income. Some nights, he had gone hungry, lacking the cash to feed himself.

It was how Joker had found him. Hungry and dirty, living on the rat infested streets. He had given the man sweet promises of money, food, and a place to sleep that was not a park bench flashing him a charming smile. Just like Princess, Doc had fallen for the man's empty promises. It was true, he had a place to sleep and could just take some money whenever he wanted to, but at what cost. The cost of his soul. Was that worth it?

At first, Doc had believed so, but no longer. After seeing what Joker did to Princess, it made him wonder what he had in store for all of them. If he grew tired of them, would he get rid of them as well? Doc knew the answer to that question. Yes, he would. But unlike Princess, he would not throw them on the streets but kill them. Princess had struck lucky with that one. Her only lucky streak.

Doc sighed as once again his thoughts had turned to her. Forever would he be haunted by her. He rolled over onto his side. What had he been thinking when he had let her go? What had made him believe that she would be able to survive by herself on the streets? He had hardly been able to do so and he was much more capable at handling things then the girl.

Many times Doc had seen Princess' type of person. The type of person that just took whatever was thrown at them without fighting back. He had dated a few and found it disturbing. They never fought back no matter what he did to them and he had done some horrible things. Things he was not proud of. He had just wanted to test their limits, see when they would actually protest, but they never did. Princess fell into that category. Fell deeply into that category.

Pushing all thoughts of her out of his mind, Doc closed his eyes. What he needed was sleep. Sleep would cure his uneasy mind, he hoped. With some rest, he would feel like a new man the next day. All thoughts of Princess would be wiped from his mind and he could go on living his life. His horrible self-centered life. It was a lonely life, but the only one he had and one he wanted to keep.

What felt like ten minutes later, though several hours had passed, a heavy weight shifted the bed, rousing Doc. He opened his eyes and groggily searched for the perpetrator that dared to wake him. Sitting Indian style, so close that he could smell the man, was Joker. Doc took in his hunched form but stayed lying down. He had no reason to get up. If Joker wanted him out of the bed, he could just make him. Doc was itching to start a fight and waited for the man to give him a reason.

"Whatcha doin'?" Joker asked staring down at Doc intently.

"Sleeping," answered Doc. "It is what you do on a bed."

"True, but don't cha normally sleep on the couch?"

"Yes, but I was tired and the men seem like they weren't going to sleep anytime soon. I decided to come in here."

"So, it has nothin' ta do with Princess once sleepin' in here?"

Even in the dark Doc could see the man's teasing smile. He really did not like that. Not at all. The urge to lash out at the man grew larger, but he held it in. Joker was a dangerous man, and Doc was cautious. He had never witnessed the man fight before, and did not know what would be in store for him. For all he knew, Joker could be a horrible fighter or he could be very good. Doc put his money on the latter. One did not live a life like him and not know how to fight.

"No," Doc answered flatly. "I just needed someplace to sleep. I haven't slept in days, and now that she's gone, no one would have a reason to come in here, or so I thought."

Joker ignored the last remark. "Did ya know that she smelled like strawberries?"

"No." Of course he had known that. When she had cuddled into his neck he could smell her. Anyone with a nose would be able to smell it with her that close. He was not going to let Joker know that.

"Strawberries smell so sweet. I like strawberries." Joker seemed to be ignoring what Doc said, a fact that was starting to annoy him. "I bet cha that that pillow your head's on smells like strawberries. It's the one she used."

Doc was starting to get pissed at the man, but could not help but realize that he was right. There was a hint of strawberry on the pillow. That fact only added fuel to the already burning fire. Just what the hell was the man getting at? Why was he mentioning the girl all of a sudden? He was the one that got bored with her. He was the one that had Doc get rid of her. And there he was, talking about her like some long lost love. Doc knew that was not the case. There was no way a man like him could feel anything more than loathing for a person.

"Did ya know that she likes it when-"

Doc shot up, interrupting the man. He could not take this any longer! Joker's rant was grating on his last nerve. "What the hell is your problem?" he shouted at the man. "First, you tell me to get rid of her. Now, you're talking about her like she's some long lost pet. So, just what the hell are you getting at? Do you want me to go get her back? I'll do it! I'll gladly do it as long as it shuts you up!"

A smile spread across Joker's face. He had been hoping to get a rise out of Doc. It had been the reasoning for waking him. Just to fuck with his mind a little. "What's wrong Doc?" Joker inquired tilting his head to the side. "Don't like me talking about Princess?"

"I could care less what you do, just don't do it around me," growled Doc.

Once again, Joker ignored what the man said. He had heard it. Heard it loud and clear, but he was trying to get on the man's nerve. "Did Doc _like_ the little Princess?"

Doc's mouth stood agape in shock. He could not believe Joker had just asked him that. Yes, Doc liked the girl, but it was not the way the man was insinuating. "Are you serious?"

"You did!" exclaimed Joker. "Aw, how cute. I don't think you would have gotten very far though. Princess doesn't seem to like normal men. You should have seen that Croc guy she was with. He could make the ugliest of men feel handsome."

Doc scratched the back of his head in annoyance. He decided to try a new tactic, not talking. It seemed that every time he had said something, Joker would say more. Maybe by not talking, the man would shut up and leave him to go back to bed. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but it did not work. Joker continued to talk, rattling off more about Princess and the man named Croc.

Doc tried to ignore him. That did not work. Not at all. Joker said something that he did not like at all. "Maybe Princess would like ya," Joker said studying the man. "I heard you were a strange one. How ya like to sleep with men. Is that why ya never went after her like the others did? 'Cause ya like men more?"

Before Doc had even realized what he had done, he punched Joker in the face. He just could not take it anymore! The man's voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him. It had screeched and pounded at his ears, assaulted his brain until he could take no more. So, he had done what he should have long ago. He hit him. Hit him as hard as he could. Well, at least he thought he did until Joker laughed at him.

"Well Doc," Joker started turning his head back to the man, "lookin' for a fight? 'Cause if not, ya just started one." Now, it was Joker's turn.

One second, Doc was staring at the Joker. The next, he staring down at the bed, his head throbbing. His assumption had been correct, Joker knew how to fight. Well, at least he knew how to hit. The man had been so fast Doc had not had time to prepare himself for it. That fact left him with a painful headache. The entire left side of his face hurt, and he knew it was already bruising. It had felt like the fist of God had come down and wreaked a fiery vengeance upon his small head. Damn did it hurt!

While Doc was staring dizzily at the bed, Joker stood up and turned on the light. Shrugging off his jacket, Joker cracked his neck. While wandering through the warehouse in his boredom, Joker had come across Princess' door, and it had been closed. He did not recall it being that way the last time he had stood in front of it, so he decided to investigate. Upon entering the room, he had spotted a sleeping Doc. So, Joker decided to mess with the man, hoping to cure his boredom for a short minute.

Never once did Joker wonder why Doc had been in the room. He had heard what the other men were saying about him. It was hard not to, they were shouting at each other and their loud voices carried far and deep within the confines of the building. Doc would be looking for any reason to fight, and Joker purposely given him one.

"Get up!" ordered Joker.

Trying to get rid of the daze he was in, Doc violently shook his head. It only made things worse. Not only did it make his head pound all the harder, but made him feel nauseous as well. But he stood none the less, not willing to let Joker best him with just one hit. Especially since the man had taken one of his hits and laughed at him. No, Doc was not going to let that happen. He got his feet under him and stumbled off of the bed. The haze dispersed slightly and he stood up straight. Then he found himself on his back, Joker on top of him, cackling.

The haze returned and Doc's head pounded more fiercely than before. He had, also, accumulated back pain and shortness of breath. It did not help that Joker was sitting on the man's stomach, digging his elbows into Doc's chest as he rested his chin on them.

A Cheshire grin on his face, Joker taunted the man. "What's the matter, Doc? I thought you knew how to fight. Or," he paused flicking his tongue across his lower lip, "is it you like a man on top of ya?"

"Fuck you," Doc mumbled dazedly. He was positive that he had a concussion. There was no way that his head bouncing off the concrete floor would not result in one. The room was spinning around him and he could hardly keep his focus on the man that was just a measly few inches from his face.

Joker clicked his tongue and climbed off him. "No thank you, I'm not in the mood."

Doc did not even register his words, just slowly rolled over and crawled to the bed. He felt sick. Like he was going to vomit right on the spot. Somehow, he had managed to crawl to the bed without doing so. Falling heavily onto the mattress, Doc could already feel himself slipping into unconsciousness.

"You know, Doc, you should stick up for yourself. Don't let the men push you around. I don't want another Princess around. If you don't grow some balls, I'll get rid of ya like I did her. Only, I'll kill ya."

"You're a sick fuck," Doc muttered harshly. "She was only a girl."

Joker cackled at the man. "If ya cared about her so much, why didn't ya stay with her, hm? There was no one to stop ya, so why come back?"

"I didn't want to be back on the streets." The truth. He finally admitted it to himself. He had left Princess to fend for herself all because he did not want to live on the streets again.

"So, ya left the poor defenseless Princess all by her lonesome? Even to a man like me that's cold." A smile still played on Joker's lips. "I may have messed with her head a little, but you left her on the streets with no money and nothing to defend herself with. Now, who's the bigger monster, you or me?"

Joker left Doc to think on that as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	13. Burning Hatred

The concrete covered ground was hard and cold, though there was a flattened cardboard box between Princess and it. Her back ached from sleeping on it. Never had she slept in the open like she had done last night. She had always had four walls and a soft bed. The smell that surrounded her was horrid, but nothing she could not handle. The Narrows had a much similar smell. The smell of pollution, booze, and body odor. Only difference was the Narrow had the sent of sex mingled in with it.

People surrounded her. All different shapes, sizes and colors. Yellow ones, black ones, and white ones. Crazy and sane ones. Alcoholics and drug addicts. All of them homeless. They had taken her in the night before as one of them saw her passing by crying wrapped up in the purple blanket. It had been a woman and a man that had first spotted her, called to her and invited her in to their circle. Husband and wife they had called each other, though neither of them had a ring to prove it. Even those stricken to the worst form of poverty could love. Something Princess could not bring herself to do.

They had introduced themselves as Mary and Earl. Mary was a woman of stout stature. A small nose, small lips, and small beady brown eyes. Princess could not tell the color of her hair for it was so caked with dirt and grime it was hard to discern. Though her appearance was not pleasing, Mary was very nice and had the sweetest voice Princess had ever heard. It did not correspond with the harsh life she had been living.

Bob was the complete opposite of his "wife." He was very tall and slim. He had a rather large bulbous nose, large lips, and wide sky blue eyes. There was not a single hair on his head and his voice was deep and gravely, painfully reminding Princess of Croc. His features made him look crude and ugly. It was as if his maker had grabbed random parts from a bowl and threw them on as they saw fit. But despite his features, just like his "wife" he was a very nice man.

Both of them had elected to give up their spot for the night and let Princess sleep while they stood watch over her. Princess did not argue with them, she was too tired. While with Joker, she had had a minimal amount of sleep and as soon as her head had hit the dirty cardboard box, her eyes had closed and had not opened until the harsh sunlight had hit them.

With the blanket wrapped firmly around her small form, she sat and stared at those around her. None of them approached her. They stared at with questioning eyes, but did not come to her and ask what was on their mind. It was the way they were, leave well enough alone. She was with them and they did not need to know the reasoning behind it. They were all there for one reason or another, all in the same boat. With no money and no place to live.

The bruise, now fading, Andy had left on her neck told them that she had been abused as did her busted lip and the bandages on her arm and hand. Most of them, those that were sane, had guessed that she had run off from her abusive boyfriend. They were wrong, but they would never ask otherwise. All they knew was that she was small, cleaner than they were, and she would not survive long. Survival was of the fittest, and she was not the fittest.

Mary plopped herself next to Princess on the cardboard box and studied her for a moment. Her small beady brown eyes took in everything of the tiny girl. Even she knew that Princess would not last long out there. The girl had followed her and Earl, two people she did not even know, without question. She was too trusting. Mary and Earl could have been leading her to her death, and still she would have followed. Followed because she did not know what else to do.

"Did ya sleep well, sweetheart?" Mary asked flashing Princess a smile that showed her dirty brown rotting teeth.

Princess nodded in response to her inquiry. "Thank ya," she muttered to the woman.

"Not a problem, sweetheart. Me 'n Earl knew as soon as we saw ya that ya needed help. We can' offa ya much, but a place ta sleep. We ain't got no food."

"That's fine. I'm used ta goin' hungry. I can get my own food if I hafta."

"'N how ya planin' on doin' that? Ya can't do that wrapped up in a blanket all day."

A sigh passed through Princess' lips. "I'll do it the only way I know how. I'll whore myself out."

Shocked, Mary stared bug eyed at the girl. With how small the woman's eyes were, Princess never thought they could get so wide. It gave her the appearance of a bloated frog. "Oh, sweetheart, that's a dangerous thing ta do."

Standing up, Princess let the blanket fall to the flattened cardboard box. "I know. I lived in the Narrows." She did not need to explain more. Everyone in Gotham, even the homeless, knew that the Narrows was the most dangerous and poverty stricken part of the city. "If I don' come back, keep the blanket. I don' want it."

With a small wave, Princess left the woman, the blanket, and the poor behind. She had no intention of going back there. She must keep moving. Staying in a spot too long could be dangerous. If the mob was looking for her, they would find her and take her back to the life she did not want. She would rather die of starvation than go back there. Even the prospect of Croc's strong arms wrapped around her would not change her mind.

As she walked out of the alleyway, she was met with the noises of the city. It was the sounds she was used to. Instead of screams, shouts of abuse, and gunshots, she was met with horns honking, the roaring of an engine as a car drove by, and shouts of friendly welcoming. This was a totally different realm of Gotham. It was nothing like the Narrows. The streets were clean. The buildings were neatly rowed together and not randomly strewn about. Windows were so clean, Princess could see her reflection as she passed. As people passed her by, she noticed they had cell phones attached to their ears and their clothes were clean and expensive. Most wore designer, not that Princess would know the difference.

She was out of place, and she knew it. So did the others. Most stared at her as she walked by. Princess did not blame them, she knew she must have looked horrible. Her hair had not been brushed in days. There was probably the same dirt and grime in it that Mary had so fashionably donned. Her clothes were plain and mismatched. Since there had been blood on her clothes, Joker had gotten her some new ones. A neon orange shirt, which made the bruise on her neck stand out, to go along with bright yellow short shorts.

Another thing that got the people staring at her was the fact that she wore no shoes. Her feet were swollen and cut from walking so far the night before. If Mary and Earl had not offered a place for Princess to sleep, she would have continued walking until she had passed out from exhaustion. Her feet did not pain her as she expected them to. Walking on them did not feel good, but it was not the worst she had dealt with. It was easy to grow accustomed to the pain.

Not a single person offered her any help. Just stared at her, some with pity in their eyes. In Gotham, if one offered their help, trouble usually ensued. It was best to leave well enough alone. There was no telling what kind of crazy Princess could have been. For all they knew, she could have murdered her entire family, though she did not look capable of accomplishing such a feat.

Ignoring the stares, Princess kept walking with arms folded over her small chest. There was not a clue in her head as to where she was headed. She only knew the Narrows, and not much of that place. There had never been time for her to explore. Just eat, sleep, fuck, and the occasional beatings.

Slowly she walked down the street. The crowd parted for her making it easier for her to walk. All of them moved quickly out of her way. It was as if she had some kind of disease and they were all afraid to catch it. Princess would occasionally glare at the onlookers. She did not like them. None of them. Snotty rich pricks is what they were. More worried about themselves that what was going on around them. They stood there, staring at her with their judging eyes. Casting her out without even taking her in.

Princess could handle the stares no longer. Stopping dead, she whipped around to them. Most were still standing there, staring at her with their judgmental eyes. "What?!" Princess screamed at them. "Ya got a problem with me?!" None of them replied, but still stood watching. A small crowd was gathering, and even people across the street were watching the scene. Some had their cell phones out taking pictures and making videos. "What's ya problem, huh?! Not a single one of ya rich pricks have even offered ta help me! What's the matter, afraid ya might catch poor?!" she spat. "It's not a fuckin' disease! Why don' ya'll go fuck yaselves!"

With that being said, Princess turned around and stormed off. That was the first time she had yelled at anyone unprovoked. She had to admit, it had felt good. Damn good. No longer was she walking with her head downcast and her arms defensively placed across her chest. Her head was held high and she strutted down the street as if she owned it. She felt like a whole other person.

It was not until she bumped into someone did her insecurities return. She had run into a man. He was taller than her; so much she had ran face first into his chest. He had bright blonde hair that came just to the tips of his ears, and light green eyes. He was a very handsome man, but made Princess feel uneasy.

"Are you lost, little girl?" he asked her in a patronizing tone. There was a smile on his face, and it was fake. After spending time with Joker and Doc, she could tell the difference. Doc never had a fake smile on his face, but Joker did. This man's smile reminded her of that.

Though the man was very handsome, he made Princess uneasy. Partially from the way he smiled at her, partially from the way he talked to her in such a condescending tone. Princess was used to being talked down like that, but how he did it, made her shift from one foot to the other and place a protective arm across herself.

"You must be lost," he answered himself still in the patronizing tone. "I guess I'll just have to help you find your way." Turning to run, the man stopped her with a strong grip on her upper arm. "Come on, little girl, there's no need to be afraid. I won't hurt you. I just want to help."

Princess tried to pull away from him, but to no avail. "Let me go!" she half commanded half begged. Not being able to think of anything else, she kicked him in the shin.

He grunted in pain, but his grip grew tighter. His eyes narrowed dangerously at her. "Now, that's no way to treat someone who's trying to help you. You're an ungrateful little bitch, and are in need of a lesson in manners."

"Fuck you!" she spat. This time, Princess was not going down without a fight. She was tired of people doing whatever they pleased with her. Tired of men taking advantage of her. So, she bit, kicked, and clawed at the man, and he still continued to drag her off.

She had no idea where he was taking her, but she had a feeling that it was not going to end well. Most likely she would end up on the front pages of the paper as another dead body to add to Gotham's never ending list.

All Princess' focus was on trying to get away from the man so she never realized when the man had taken her down an alley. She bit him once more, as hard as she could. The salty metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she bit down harder, nearly locking her jaw. The man cried out in pain, ripped her teeth from his flesh, and slammed her head against the nearby brick wall.

Adrenaline coursed through Princess' veins and she did not feel the pain that she should have. Taking advantage of the fact that the man was turned away from her, looking at his wound, she kicked him again. Kicked him where it counted most. He doubled over and she punched him in the face, and then took off running.

She reached the street, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Her right hand hurt from hitting the man. She had never hit someone before and never realized how much pain could be associated with it. A couple of her fingers had to be broken. She did not have time to worry about that though. The man could be after her any moment. So, she continued to run down the sidewalk, her feet now bleeding, and her heart still hammering against her chest.

When the adrenaline rush finally subsided, her speed slowed to a stumbling walk. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy. Warm liquid ran down the side of her face, letting her know that it was bleeding. She did not reach up and check to see if she was right, fear of her own blood would not allow her to do so.

While walking, she used the nearby buildings for support. Tired. She was so very tired, but knew better than to stop and rest. She had to reach a safe place. As safe a place she could find. But she was in unknown territory and had not the slightest clue as to where she could go. All she could was put on foot in front of the other. A task that was not found simple with her tired legs.

When her doziness had come to its worse, she started to slowly count in her head. Anything to keep her mind moving. It helped somewhat, but the sickening dizzy feeling was starting to win. No matter how high she counted, her eyes would try to force themselves closed. Then, she decided to stop. Stop and rest. It would only be just a minute. She was far away from the man and was sure that he was no longer following her, if he had been in the first place. Paranoia had made her believe so.

Like a stone, she dropped to the hard ground. Pain shot up her back, but the throbbing of her head made it seem more like a dull ache. Desperately, she tried to keep her eyes open. It was a fight she was losing badly. They kept closing no matter how many times she forced them back open.

It was like a strobe light effect for her. One second her eyes would be open and someone would pass her by, the next darkness, only for them to open once again and another person be strolling passed her. None of the people even gave Princess a glance. They were all too worried about their cell phones and business meetings. Too busy with their lives to worry about some girl leaning heavily against a building and blood pouring from her head.

When she opened her eyes one last time, there was a woman standing in front of her. Her brown eyes were widened with worry. Princess recognized her; she was the Latino cop from her time at the station. She giggled at the site of the woman. "You're eyes are big," she informed the woman before she completely blacked out.

Hours later, Princess woke up on a hospital bed. Instantly, her hand shot up and touched the left side of her head. Her fingers grazed across fabric. So, her head was now bandaged and she was sitting alone in a hospital room in the dark. What fun she was having! So much, she had no idea what to do with her time.

Huffing, Princess ripped the covers off of her. Her feet were bandaged as well. Looking at her left arm and right hand, she came to notice that they had fresh gauze wrapped around them. More than ever she felt like a mummy, a good portion of her small body was wrapped up in the white gauze.

Princess grumbled and swung her legs to where they dangled off of the bed. Slowly and carefully, she set her feet onto the cold white tiled floor. Applying a little weight to her feet, she tested to see if it would hurt. No pain came, so she stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Once in there, she avoided the mirror and did her business. She quickly exited the room, but a voice called to her stopping her. "I'm hurt, Princess," she heard that all too familiar voice, "you're deliberately trying to avoid me." Princess turned and saw only her reflection. But it was not what she expected to see. There was no bandaging wrapped around its head nor was she donned in the hospital gown Princess was now wearing. She looked exactly as she had first seen her.

At the sight of her, Princess' heart started to race. Her head started to pound. The once stable legs she stood on, now felt like jello and threatened to collapse beneath her. She leaned heavily against the door so that she would not fall.

"That's right, Princess. Be afraid of me, be very afraid." The reflection rolled her eyes. "God, you can be such an idiot. Have I not proven that you should not be afraid of me?"

"You're the one that told me ta cut myself."

Another roll of the eyes. "That was not me, you idiot!" she hissed at her. "That was you! You're the one that said it, not me. You just wanted to place the blame on someone else. It was your sick mind that wanted to do it. I've done nothing but try and help you!"

Princess had been told. It was a strange feeling to be told off by her own reflection. But it still hit home none the less. It had been her that had said those things, not the reflection. How could she not come to realize those dreadful words had slipped past her lips? She had been staring at the piece of glass so intently she had not noticed.

"Now that we got that out of the way, I can tell you what I came here to say. I told you so." The reflection flashed a wicked smile at her. "Didn't I tell you he was just using you? He used you all up and threw you away. Now look at where you are! In a hospital all bandaged up and all alone. No one knows you're here, so don't even think that you're going to get some surprise visitor. You're all on your own now, Princess."

Tears welled in Princess' eyes and she bit her lower lip. The reflection rolled her eyes. "Jesus! You're always crying! Fucking pathetic. Why don't you grow some ball? Grow up while you're at it. God, looking at you makes me sick." She threw her hands up into the air. "I can't believe we're the same person."

Princess shook her head in disbelief. "We're not the same person," she stated.

Her reflection laughed. "Of course, we are silly. I'm the part of you that you never let out. I'm your anger at the world. Your thirst for revenge."

"I don't want revenge."

"Oh, yes you do, Princess. You know you do." She ran her fingers through her hair. "How could you not? After what that man did to you. He fucked up your head and then tossed you aside like some broken toy. But you're not broken. We're not broken. We can still think. We can still function, can't we?"

"Yeah," answered Princess in an uneven tone. She really did not like where her reflection was going with this. There was no way Princess wanted revenge. What would that result in? Nothing. Nothing but pain.

"But it wouldn't be our pain," her reflection responded to her thoughts. Princess was taken aback and more frightened than ever. "It would be theirs. All those that ever hurt us. They would feel the same pain that we went through. The years of abuse would be avenged. Think of it, Princess! We can make them all pay! All you have to do is let your anger out. Let me out. Make me more than just a reflection in a mirror."

When her hand reached out through the mirror, Princess slammed the bathroom door shut. This was crazy! She was crazy! It was just all in her head. She had just been talking to herself. Sleep. Sleep is what she needed. That had to be the solution. Her mind was still tired and messed up from the man slamming it against the wall. If she slept, all of it would be just a bad dream. Dreams are not real and neither was that. It was all just in her head.

Rushing to the bed, she hid herself under the covers. She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to sleep. Her attempts at forced slumber were futile. The blissful darkness just would not over take her. She even tried the whole counting sheep thing, but to no avail. She was left lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling coated in the blackness of night.

It was getting close to dawn. She was still staring up at the ceiling watching the light slowly get brighter. Strange how no one had come in to check on her. Not even a nurse had peeked trough the glass across from the bed. Looked like even in a hospital, no one cared for Princess. She figured it was because she was a charity case. They knew there would be no way for her to pay for the medical bills, so they just ignored her.

Having nothing else to do, she sat up in the bed. Might as well, she was not going to fall asleep anytime soon. She watched through the glass as nurses passed in their brightly colored scrubs their noses in clipboard. Every once in a while, she would catch a glimpse of a doctor strolling by. They're heads were always held high, and they walked as if they were God's gift to Earth. Princess could not help but scoff at them.

As educated as they were, doctors did not know anything. They knew nothing of real life. Only what came trough the doors of the hospital. Yes, they had seen their fare share of blood, but so had Princess. She had wallowed in her own blood. Had they ever done that? No. Not a one of them. Most probably cried when they got a simple paper cut.

None of them could survive the life she lived. They were too high in society for that. None of them would ever know what it felt like when a hard fist came into contact with their soft flesh. The light slapping noise when flesh hit flesh. Or the pain of a man forcing themselves inside of them. Nor the pain and pleasure I knife could give while slicing into the flesh. They would never know. Could never know.

So, Princess sat on the bed glaring at them. Hating them with as much hate as she could muster. Her hatred turned to all those that were privileged. Those that sat in their expensive homes, on their expensive couches, watching their expensive television with their expensive sound systems. How they drove in their expensive cars taking extra care to avoid the Narrows. They could not go to the bad part of town. Could not see how those that were not privileged lived life. Oh no, they could never do that. Never bring themselves to see what a harsh life was.

The rich were useless. They never did anything good. Sure, they had their fancy fundraisers, but for what? So the next politician could win an election. So that they could become fat and corrupt. Princess knew that those were not the only types of fundraisers they held. They held them for the poor and starving over in third world countries. But what about the ones in the city. Did they never think of them? Did they just want to pretend that they could not exist where they lived? Princess knew that they existed, knew very well. She had slept amongst them. Watched as they riffled through the nearby garbage cans.

Princess hated the rich and the money that they horded. Let them sit in their big mansions and rot. They'll never be happy. Money did not cure everything. It may make the world go around, but it left people feeling empty inside. She hoped they felt that way. Hoped that they would wallow in self pity for the rest of their lives. Let them wallow in it. She hoped that they kill themselves. The world would be better off without them in her opinion. So much better.

Princess hoped they all burned. Them and their money.


	14. Release

Midnight blue eyes watched as they wheeled Harvey Dent into a nearby room. She sighed running her hair through her long blond hair. A crowd of nurses and doctors were already forming around the room. They all wanted to catch a glimpse at Dent and his new look. Missy, a nurse herself, shook her head at them pushing and shoving each other out of the way. If he had been any normal patient, they would have all gone about their business. But sadly, he was not, and they fought over who would take care of him.

Scoffing at them, she turned her head only to be met with cold gray eyes. Missy was slightly taken aback. The girl's eyes were staring at her so harshly it was almost frightening. It would have been, if she were not so small. Small, bandaged, but with the angriest eyes Missy had ever witnessed on a person.

Missy looked to Sam who sat next to her. He, as usual, was reading a book. "Sam?" Missy called to him.

"Yeah?" he answered not glancing up from his book.

"Has anyone gone and checked on that girl?"

He glanced up for a second and shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Probably not. They're all to worried about Dent."

Rolling her eyes, Missy stood up. "Fucking typical," she mumbled under her breath. No wonder the girl had such a hostile look about her. She had probably been up for hours waiting for someone to tell her she could go. With a fake smile, Missy entered the room. "Hello, my name is Missy. I came in here to check up on you."

"Really?" Princess asked sarcastically, wiping the smile off Missy's face. "Wow. If you didn' tell me that, I would have never known."

Missy's scowled at the girl. There was no way she was going to take that from her. She may have been an abandoned patient, but there was no reason for her to treat Missy that way. "Look you little bitch," Missy hissed, "I don't have to take this shit from you. I'm like those pricks that chose to ignore you. I work very hard for my money so that I can support my son, and I won't take any shit from you, understand?"

Princess looked down, ashamed at herself. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I jus haven' had the best couple of day. Well, more like life."

Placing her hands on her hips, Missy glared down at Princess. "Well, you don't have to take it out on me."

Princess muttered another apology and stared down at the white linen cover placed over her knees. It was so thin, yet somehow, so very warm. That fact had always fascinated her. She could never fathom just how it was done. Spending a lot of time in the hospital, Princess had had many opportunities to inquire on how they were like that, but she was either too shy or too drugged up to ask. Mostly it was the latter.

For a moment, Missy studied the girl. Then, she turned and gazed at her chart. "How did you come to get your injury?" she asked.

"Some guy bashed my head against a wall," Princess nonchalantly answered.

Missy's eyebrows rose ridiculously high on her long forehead. "You act as if this was not the first time."

"That's 'cause it wasn'."

Incredulously, Missy stared at Princess. "How many times has it happened?"

"A lot."

For a moment, Missy stared down at the girl in pity. Normally, she hated weak women. Hated how they let men push them around claiming that they "love" them. Came in the hospital with black eyes and broken arms. She had never felt pity for them. They chose their life and the abuse that came with it. But Princess was a different case. That she could tell.

By the way the girl in front of her talked, Missy could tell that she was a prostitute. There had been plenty to walk through the hospital doors for various medical reasons. Most of them were badly beaten. Most so badly that it was hard to tell what they had looked like. Princess had a busted lip, a fading bruise on her neck, a severe head wound, and bandages on her arm, hand, and feet. Those are what made Missy believe that the girl was a prostitute, and she wasn't wrong.

She shook off the pitying feeling that was coming over her. The girl had chosen her life, so why should she take pity on her. It was her own damn fault she was in the hospital. Maybe if she hadn't chosen that certain life style, none of it would have happened to her. No. Missy did not have to feel any sympathy for the girl sitting before her. It was her own fault.

Sighing, Princess looked to the woman standing next to her. "Can I leave?" she inquired. She did not want to be there any longer. Staying there was filling her head with dark thoughts. Thoughts that she really did not like. She did not want to be like her reflection. So angry and filled with hate. Yes, she led a hard life, but that does not mean she needed to hate everything about it.

"I don't have the authority to tell you. Only a doctor can release you. I'm just a nurse." Missy took a quick glance at Princess' charts once again. "Judging by what your chart says, probably not. Your skull has a small fracture and you slept a day away. I'm sure that the doctors will want to run a few more test to make sure that everything is alright. After that, you'll probably be released."

_Damn,_ Princess thought. She really wanted to go. It was not safe to stay in one place for too long. If the mob was looking for her, there was a large chance that they would find her there. They had spies everywhere, and she was almost positive that they knew that she was there.

Even if she forever had to live on the streets, Princess did not want to return to the hands of the mob. Anything was better than that. Even the chance of starvation sounded much more pleasing than that. Princess knew that she would not survive long on the streets, she was too weak. But it was a risk she was willing to take. Her newfound freedom was more important to her than her empty belly.

"How much longer do ya think I have ta stay here?"

"A few hours."

"Fuck," groaned Princess, flopping back on the bed. They were definitely going to catch her now.

"Why are you so anxious to leave?" Curiosity had gotten the best of Missy. Normally, she would not have asked, but she felt the need to know.

Princess rolled over, facing away from Missy, and curled herself into the tiniest ball she could muster. "They'll find me here," she whispered. "They'll find me and take me back. I don't want to go back."

"Who?" Missy asked concerned. It was made clear that the girl was frightened of whoever she was referring to. "Who will take you back?"

"The mob. They'll take me back and put me on the streets again."

Suddenly, pity returned to Missy. The girl that lay before her had not chosen her life. She had heard of it before, plenty of times. People work up debt and are forced to by them back with either blood or body. But the girl appeared too young to work up a substantial amount of debt with the mob. Hell, she looked too young to be out of high school yet.

With her jaw set firm, Missy looked at Princess with determination. "I'm sure that they won't find you here. No one even knows your name. I plan to keep it that way. Just pretend to be sleeping still. They'll believe that. You have been out for a day, what's a few more hours?"

Turning over, Princess gazed at the woman's determined eyes. It sparked hope in her. Hope that she was right and they would not find her. But the fact of spies still plagued her. They would certainly recognize her, but Princess would recognize them as well. How could she not? She had slept with more than half of the men in the mob, excluding the bosses. Keeping the men entertained and happy had been a part of her job. A part that she now found a use for. If she spotted any of the men, she would be able to hide in hopes that they had not spotted her first.

"Besides," Mary started again, "with the doctors so busy with Dent, I'll most likely be the only one taking care of you. It'll make this a lot easier. With just me in here, no one will know about you."

A grateful smile appeared on Princess' face. It was rare when someone wanted to actually help her, as she saw with Joker. He had not wanted to help her, but use her just as the mob had. Maybe not in exactly the same way, but using was using no matter what the pretenses were. With the thought of the man, she felt disgusted with herself. Once again, she had been led into a trap with sweet words. The mob had done that. They had taken her away with sweet promises that they would take better care of her than her father could. After she had fell into the gaping hole they had led her to, they had drugged her and abused her.

Princess' eyes narrowed as she thought. What if Missy was doing the same thing? What if she was leading her into some kind of trap? After all, Princess did not know the woman. She could very well be working for the mob herself, and Princess would never know. Princess was not into woman and luckily the pimps did not force her to be. That much she was grateful for.

Missy saw the distrust in Princess' eyes. It was understandable to her. Princess knew nothing about her and would have no reason not to distrust her. Missy was not leading the young girl astray, but Princess would not know that. So, Missy would have to convince her. Convince Princess that she was not going to betray her.

Gazing down at the girl, Missy could see that the possibility of Princess trusting her was minimal. It would be hard for the girl to trust anyone. Missy may not know all the circumstances behind Princess' mistrust, but she was sure that they were good reasons for her to not place trust in just anyone. Missy did not even know the girl's name. She had been unconscious at the time of her admittance and there was no possible way for anyone to ask. The cop that had dropped her off had left shortly afterwards so that she could make it to the Commissioner's funeral two days ago.

"What's your name?" Missy finally asked. She was not going to put the information down in the charts, but was curious none the less.

"Jus call me Princess, everyone else does," replied Princess.

"Interesting choice for a name."

A smirk appeared on Princess' face. "Someone very important to me gave it to me. Besides, I like it better than my real name."

Missy took the seat next to the bed. It was normally reserved for visitors, but it would appear that the girl was not going to get any. "What's your real name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Jessica."

"I don't see a problem with Jessica. I rather like that name. If I had a girl instead of a boy I was going to name her Jessica."

Before Princess could make a remark, a scream cut across the hospital. Missy quickly stood up while Princess just turned her head to the window. Nurses and doctors rushed by the window to the room they had wheeled Harvey Dent into. Of course, Princess had no idea who the man was, he had just been another man to her. Princess never had an interest for politics even before the mob.

"Who's that?" she asked Missy.

Missy slowly sat back down, realizing that she was not needed. "Harvey Dent."

By the way Missy said the man's name, Princess thought he must be important in some way. "Who's he?"

Shocked, Missy looked at the girl. She could not believe Princess had never head of the man. Everyone in Gotham knew who Harvey Dent was. He was their White Knight after all. "Are you being serious?" Princess nodded in reply. "He's Gotham's District Attorney. Since his election, he's been cleaning up the streets of crime. Even put some of the mob away. None of the bosses, of course, they can get out of anything. Gotham has become a much safer place because of him."

Princess could not help but scoff. "Maybe for the higher end parts of town, but not the Narrows. That place is still horrible."

"Is that where you live?"

Princess shook her head. "Not anymore. I'm livin' on the streets now. I like it better."

For hours, Missy and Princess exchanged stories. They learned a great deal about each other. Princess learned how Missy had gone through nursing school while working a full time job to take care of her son, Adam, that was just an infant at the time. His father had taken off as soon as he had learned that Missy was pregnant and had never once inquired to the well being of his child. Missy did not mind, she was better off without the low life. She had proven that she could take care of her and her son by herself just fine. Princess was glad to hear a happy story.

Missy, on the other hand, was horrified to hear Princess'. Horrified and amazed. She was horrified at hearing about the abuse, drugs, and rapes, but amazed at how someone so young could live through it all and still be mostly intact. Most girls would have kept with the drug habit, but Princess had kicked it. Most would have continued to cry during the beatings and rapes, but Princess had stopped. Somehow, she had forced herself to do things that some less capable people would have broken from. Missy could tell that Princess was not whole, but she still had a fire in her. The way she had glared and talked to her proved that much.

It was not until Missy heard that Princess had been with Joker that she really started to freak out. She had totally lost it. But Princess had lost it even more when Missy started to insist that she was going to tell the cops. That was not a good idea and Princess did not like the sound of it. The mob had spies disguised as cops, and they would inform them of her whereabouts. No matter what, Princess was not going to let that happen.

With her hands gripping Missy's arm tightly, she tried to drag her away from the door. Then, an alarm went off and panic started to ensue. Confused, Princess gazed up at Missy. The only reply Missy gave the girl was a shrug of her shoulders. She flung open the door and grabbed the first nurse to walk by. "What's happening?" she asked her.

"We have to evacuate the hospital immediately!" the nurse told her, her voice laced with panic.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Joker's threatened to blow up a hospital. I don't know all the details, but we have to get everyone out. There are buses outside for us." Then she was gone, rushing to get all of the patients out of the building.

"Did you know anything about this?" Missy asked gazing down at Princess.

With eyes wide, Princess shook her head. How would she know anything about it? Joker had thrown her out two days ago. He had never told her anything anyways. Just left saying he would be back. When she got to thinking about it, she really did not talk to Joker much. She talked to Doc more than him.

A sigh passed through Missy's lips. "I guess you wouldn't. If you did, I'm sure you wouldn't have ended up here. Well, let's get to a bus."

Hands still attached to the woman, Princess let Missy lead her to a bus. With everyone in a state of panic, the going was tough. People pushed and shoved the pair out of the way. One had pushed Princess so hard she banged her head against the wall. It had unfortunately been the side that was already injured. Immense pain coursed through her head and attacked all of her senses. It made her nauseated and dizzy. This fact forced the pair to stop until the spell was over.

It took a grand total of thirty minutes to get out of the hospital and another fifteen to find a bus that had space. When they finally found a bus, Princess was relieved. With all the brisk walking they had done, her feet were aching her. The pain in her head had not subsided, but she had not wanted to be stuck in the building for much longer. The shouts had not been helping her pounding head. Sitting down on the cushioned seats of the bus sounded most appealing to her.

At seeing the bus, Princess' sped up now dragging Missy. When the reached the entrance of the bus, Missy stopped dead. Princess turned to ask her what was wrong, but was cut off when hands grabbed her and roughly pulled her onto the bus. As if she were a feather, they tossed her into the walkway. Princess barely managed to keep to her feet. Standing up straight she gazed at the other passengers. They were all terrified. The air was polluted with the musky sent of fear. It was so thick that Princess could taste it when she ran her tongue over her lips savoring the taste.

Princess froze. She did not like the way she was acting or had been acting. This was not her. She had never enjoyed the taste of fear nor did she know what it smelled like. What the hell was this? Why was she acting that way? Out of the corner of her eye she caught her reflection in one of the windows on the bus. It was waving at her, a smirk on its face. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned to face it. When she did, the reflection put her finger to her lips, shushing her. Princess did not need to be told twice. Like she would ever tell anyone about her reflection talking to her in the first place. She would only end up in the nuthouse, and who wants to go to the nuthouse?

"Princess?" a voiced called, ripping her from her reflection in the window.

Turning, Princess spotted who the voice had come from. Her eyes widened and a smile lit up her face. "Doc," she called back excitedly. Skipping to him, she embraced Doc.

He embraced her back, but quickly pulled her away at arms length. "Are you alright? What happened?" His eyes scanned her body, checking for injury. When they landed on the bald spot on her head, hidden by her hair, his eyes widened slightly. Removing the thin chunk of hair covering the wound, he counted the stitches. Six. There were six of them, rowed neatly together slanting down toward her ear.

"I'm fine," answered Princess. "It's jus' a little bump."

Missy's jaw dropped. "Just a little bump!" she exclaimed, the nurse in her taking over. "You have stitches and your skull is fractured. I'd say that was more than a little bump."

Princess shrugged. "I've had worse." A statement of fact and she had many scars to prove it. Turning back to Doc, Princess' smile fell from her face. If Doc was there, that could only mean one thing. "This is the hospital he's gonna blow up, isn' it?" she asked the man in a low whisper. Doc nodded in response. "Why?"

"I don't know. This was just the one he picked. No one really knows why he does the things he does. I don't even think he knows."

Missy was pushed out of the way as one of Joker's goons walked down the walkway. He gripped Princess' arm and whipped her around. Fear laced her face as she stared up at the man. "Well, well, lookie what we got here. It's Boss' whore!" he exclaimed to the other men who burst into a fit of giggles or smirked at her. Doc glared down at the man who was just slightly shorter than him. "And look at this!" the man pointed at the glaring Doc. "It looks like the faggot has a soft spot for her. Are ya thinkin' 'bout goin' to women now?"

A smirk appeared on Princess' face. "You're a naughty boy," she told the man. "Very naughty to use such a word. That wasn't very nice of you." She ripped her arm from his grasp and placed a hand on his chest. "You are in _dire_ need of a lesson in manners." Her voice was low and seductive and not her own. Princess was confused but the expression would not show on her face, only the smirk. For the second time that hour, she asked just what the hell was wrong with her.

Doc was just as confused as she was. From the short time that he had known the girl, she had never once talked like that. It was always "ya" instead of "you," and dire was a word her would have thought to never hear from her. That low voice was not hers as well. Did the bump on her head mess her up more than was thought?

The man, of course, did not notice the change. He had never talked to Princess one on one and figured she just wanted to have some fun. "And how are ya gonna teach me this lesson?" he inquired with a smirk on his face. His hand grasped her hip and gave it a little squeeze.

Princess glared down at his hand as if she could burn it off with the look. Then, her eyes, still narrowed, turned back up to him. "Who said you could touch me?" she hissed. Grabbing his wrist, she lifted the hand off of her, digging her nails into his flesh. As hard as she could, she shoved the man away from her. With her lack of strength and his body weight, he did not travel far.

_What's wrong with me?_ Princess asked herself.

_It's just me, _a voice replied. Princess recognized the voice as the same one her reflection carried. _We should be a whole person, but you won't let that happen. So, I've decided to force my way into you._

_Leave me alone, _begged Princess. _Ya gonna get me killed!_

_Even in your head your speech is atrocious. _The voice sighed. _Fine, I'll leave you alone. For now._

The final warning before the voice vanished. Princess could not help but feel relieved. The relief was short lived when she saw that the man was glaring down at her his hands balled tightly into fists. Princess' heart pounded and she briefly wished that had not shaken off what she now deemed Evil Princess so hastily. At least with her, she would not have been so frightened and the fear would not be showing in her face.

Before the man could do anything the building next to them exploded. Small bits of debris hit the windows of the bus and the vehicle shook slightly with the force of the aftershock. Doc quickly pushed her into the seat closest to them and sat himself next to her. "Stay down!" he commanded her.

The command fell on deaf ears. Princess was staring intently out the window at the burning building. The sight was strangely beautiful to her, making her wonder if Evil Princess was resurfacing. When there was no voice in her head and her reflection was only her staring back at her, she decided that it was her. Maybe the others thought so as well. Humans always had a strange fascination with destruction.

As the bus started to slowly drive away, Princess sat on her knees and watched the building burn as they drove past it. It was a big mistake on her part, and she soon came to realize it when her eyes landed on Joker. He was staring forward, never once glancing back at the collapsing building. Princess thought it strange. Never once did he look back at the devastation he had caused. Just kept staring forward.

His eyes shifted to her and she yipped and quickly sat down in the seat trying to hide herself. Silently she prayed that he had not had time to recognize her. After a few moments had passed, she thought that her prayers had been answered for once. Sighing in relief, she slumped further down into the seat. Out of the corner of his eyes, Doc kept glancing at her. He was praying for the same she had.

"Princess!" Joker's nasally voiced called out. Princess' heart sank as did Doc's.

Shit.

"Come here!"

Double shit.


	15. First Blood

Chastising herself for being so stupid, Princess stood up. Disobeying the man was still not an option for her. With how much he had messed with her head, she doubted she would ever be able to say no to him. It was a fact that she did not find very pleasant. Even more so considering the type of man he was. He had just blown up a hospital! Sure, everyone had gotten out, but would he have cared if they did not? Would he have cared if there had still been children in it? Princess did not need to search deep for the answer, she already knew it. No, he would not have cared.

As Princess slipped by him, Doc moved out of the way so that she would not be hindered. It would be futile to try and stop her. One, she would not disobey Joker, and two, Joker would most likely kill him for doing so. Doc wanted to die an old man, not at twenty-nine. So, he let her pass, not even glancing up at her. He could not bring himself to look at her. He would not be able to bare the obedient puppy dog eyes of hers.

With her head held somewhat high, Princess made her way to Joker. She had not been frightened of Joker before, so she was not going to let herself be so then. Now that she had seen the real Joker, she knew there was a large chance that he would hurt her. The thought set her heart hammering against her chest. She tried to calm herself for fear that he would hear it. How could he not? It pounded so harshly it echoed in her ears.

_Calm down, Princess,_ she told herself._ Be strong for once._

_Yes,_ the voice cut across her mind, _for once, don't be a frightened little bunny rabbit._

There was no time for Princess to shush the voice for she was standing next to Joker. She stood looking down at him, gripping the seat next to her. The driver was not very good and his skills were showing in his erratic driving. She had to grip the seat just to keep on her feet. The driver made a sharp right turn and it sent Princess head first into the seat with Joker. Pain and nausea overtook her when her head bumped into the metal siding of the bus just below the window. Luckily enough, it was not the side that had the stitches, but it still hurt her all the same.

After the pain subsided, Princess came to realize that her legs were on Joker's lap. As fast as she could, she moved them and pushed herself against the window, knees to her chest. Her eyes watched him, making sure he did not move any closer. Normally, she would have laughed at the ridiculous nurse's uniform he had donned himself in, but fear of the man stopped the laughter dead in her chest.

Joker licked his lips, excited about the fact he could mess with her mind just a little bit more. The fear in her eyes made him want to do it. Her fear was a new thing to him, and he wanted push it. Wanted to make it grow to terror. "What's the matter?" he asked her touching the calf of her right leg. "Is Princess scared?"

Hands cold as death touched each side of Princess' face. Her heart stopped dead in terror. "Calm down," the voice called to her, "it's just me." The voice belonged to Evil Princess. That fact did nothing to clam the poor girl, just made it worse. "I'm just trying to help you," Evil Princess reassured her. "Just let me in. You don't have to let all of me in, just a little bit. I'll help you. Just release a little bit of your anger."

Closing her eyes, Princess sighed, calming herself and did as Evil Princess asked. She let just a little bit of anger that had been built up inside of her go. Her heart thudded in her chest and a turned cold. Opening her eyes, they narrowed when they landed on Joker. With her right foot, she kicked him as hard as she could in the side.

Caught off guard, Joker fell from the seat. A surprised guffaw passed through his lips. The kick was not painful in the least. In fact, he hardly felt it. It was just surprising that she had done it. Princess had never even hinted at the ability of violence toward others. Sure, she snapped at him once, but that was just words. A kick was something much different.

The reaction had brought a smile to his face. Princess had once again caught his interest. No longer was she the boring little puppy dog that did as she was told. Her eyes told him that. The miniscule spark that he had once seen had ignited. Strange how that fire was not hot, but cold. So very cold. He was going to have so much fun!

"Don't touch me you wacked out clown!" Princess shouted at him.

That was a first. Princess actually telling someone what to do. It had, also, caught the attention of Joker's men. They looked at the two with interest, including the bus driver that was until he almost ran them off of the road. After that, his attention stayed on the road.

A smile lit Princess' face. It felt good to release some of her pent up anger. Though it was a small amount, it still felt really good. Her head hurt less, the ache in her chest subsided, and she felt more relaxed. With the anger, the tension that wound her body seemed to disappear as well. Maybe she should allow herself to get angry more often.

Standing up, Joker brushed off the imaginary dirt that had decided to cling to him. Oh yes, he was going to have so much more fun with her now. He had to see just how far her anger would go. Flopping in the seat next to her, Joker reached over and gripped her throat and pulled her over to where she was straddling his legs.

Princess had not seen that coming. He was too fast. Clawing at his wrist and hand did not seem to be helping. It only made his grip tightened further restricting her breathing. He was strong. So much stronger than her. Even with Evil Princess' help, she would not be able to get him to release his hold on her. The anger she felt quickly transformed into fear.

Joker clicked his tongue in disappointment when he saw the fear in her eyes. It would appear that he could not push her anger any further. How boring. The grip he had on her throat loosened. In return, Princess grabbed his wrist and bit his hand, hard. Joker tilted his head to the side, curious to see just how hard she would bite him.

At seeing his lack of reaction, Princess pushed his hand from his mouth. She had wanted to see pain, but she got nothing. Nothing but a tilt of his head. Did he not feel pain or was he just immune to its effects? Either way, she did not like it. It made him seem less human. People felt pain, from mental to physical. He seemed to be plagued by neither.

Princess glared down at him, leaning her back against the seat behind her. "You bore me," she told the man.

Joker raised his eyebrows at her bold statement. "Do I?" he asked eyebrows still raised. A wicked smile grew on his face. "I'll just have to change that, won't I?"

The bus came to a sudden halt, and Princess was relieved that she was already leaning on the seat behind her. If not, she would have surely been thrown forward like the other passengers. When Joker's head slammed into her chest, the relief was gone along with her breath. "We're here!" the driver exclaimed as everyone slowly picked themselves from where ever they had landed.

Princess went to get off of Joker, but he stopped her with his hands on her hips. "Oh no, no, no, no, no. You're not going anywhere."

"Get your hands off of me!" Princess hissed.

The men rushed the hostages out of the bus, deciding it best to leave the two alone. Most of them would have loved nothing more than to stay and watch, but decided it was not worth being killed for. There was a chance that Joker would not mind, but who would want to take it? It would be best for them to leave.

With worry filled eyes, Doc constantly looked back to Princess. All he could see was the back of her head, but the way her body was rigid, he could tell that she was not a happy camper. Joker did something, he did not know what, and she did not like it. A smirk crossed Doc's face when Joker sprawled to the floor after Princess had hit him. Doc did not know the pretenses of Princess' change, but he had to say, it was a lot better than the old Princess. She was finally sticking up for herself. Doc slinked off of the bus in a much better mood.

Standing up, Princess hovered over Joker who cackled on the dirty floor of the bus. "I told you to get your hands off of me!" she shouted down at the man.

Pointing at her, Joker continued to laugh. "I can see up your dress," he commented through his cackling.

"And I can see up yours."

"Oh, ho, ho, but I'm not wearing one," he replied. Then he gazed down at his outfit. Of course, he remembered what he was wearing, but he was hoping to anger Princess more. "Well, look at that, I am wearing one. Do you think it makes me look fat?"

Rolling her eyes, Princess started to walk away. "You're fucking crazy!" she screamed over her shoulder. A hand gripped her ankle and pulled. She went tumbling to the floor, her head bouncing off of it. Unfortunately, it was the side with the stitches. The pain and nausea returned ten fold.

Joker rolled her onto her back and straddled her waist. "I'm not crazy!" he proclaimed. "I'm not!" He put an emphasis on the 't' making it pop. "I'm not crazy!"

Groggily, Princess replied, "Who are you trying to convince, me or you?"

Joker gazed down at Princess, a smile on his face. He had noticed the change in her speech. It sounded more educated and less street. There was a brief moment when he wondered if she had split personality disorder, but he shook that off. It was Princess, he could tell that by the fear in her eyes. She was just a little… changed. A little more anger and a lot less weak. He was finding this new Princess a lot more intriguing than the old.

But intriguing or not, she was just in the way. A road block. Something that was in his way. The only way for him to move forward was to remove the block. Removing the road block would be a simple task, especially with one such as Princess. She would not put up much of a fight. Even if she did, he could overpower her easily enough.

Joker reached into the pocket of the nurse's uniform he was wearing and retrieved a knife. Princess had not even noticed. The pain in her head was growing into a harsh pounding causing her red dots to appear around her vision. Like a jack hammer, her heart pounded fiercely against her chest. Breathing had become a difficult task and was fast and laborious. She could not focus on one thing without the red haze taking over. Repeatedly she tried to blink it away, only for it to come back brighter and larger than before. It slowly clouded her vision.

The cold blade pressed against her throat. That action received no reaction from her. Princess did not feel it. Could not feel anything but the horrendous pounding in her head. Joker did not like the fact that she was not reacting, but shrugged it off. It mattered little to him. No matter what, he was going to drive that knife into her neck and…

"… kill her?" A female voice asked.

Doc turned his head and looked at the woman. He had not been paying attention to what she was saying. Had not even known she was speaking to him. It was the blond from earlier. The one that had snapped at Princess. Her midnight blue eyes gazed at him with scrutiny. "What?"

Missy rolled her eyes at the man. "Do you think he's going to kill her?" she asked him again, this time much more slowly as if she were talking to her son and not a grown man.

Shrugging his shoulders, Doc answered her. "It's a possibility."

Missy's eyes narrowed. "Then, why are you just standing here!" she yelled at him. "Go and get her out of there! You care about her," she lowered her voice and stood closer to him, "so go help her."

"It's not that simple!" he hissed back. "Nothing with him ever is."

One of the men walked up next to Doc. He stood there for a moment before speaking. "I'm going to go and let Boss know that everything is set up," he told Doc.

"Why are you telling me this?" Doc asked harshly. He did not like to be interrupted when he was speaking. "Just go and do it!"

The man shrugged and walked off. Deliberately slow, he made his way to the bus. When he reached the bus, the sound of laughter filled his ears. It was the girl's, that much he could tell. Never hearing it before, he could not help but smile. The laugh was girlishly cute and very infectious. He felt his own laughter build up in his throat, but forced it back. "Boss?" he called as he walked up the short flight of steps and onto the bus.

What he saw confused the man. Joker was gazing down at the girl, his head tilted to the side knife in hand. He climbed off of Princess who continued to laugh mirthlessly. Clawing her way away from him, she stood up. When her eyes landed on Joker's man, a sweet smile crossed her face. She lightly skipped over to the man. Her dark hair bounced with each skip, and she hummed a nameless tune.

When she reached him, she stood on tip toes and kissed the man. He stood rigid, not knowing what to do. Her tiny hands were roaming his body, and then she just stopped. Stepping back her smile changed. The sweet innocence was lost and replaced with a twisted maliciousness.

The retort of a gun echoed in the walls of the bus. The man's body jerked and his eyes widened with realization. She had just shot him. Never before had he thought that could happen. Why? Why did she shoot him? What had he done to her? Nothing. He had done absolutely nothing to her, but that mattered little to Princess. The pounding in her head was driving her insane and she needed to find a way to relieve it. She would try anything, and shooting the man had sounded like such a wonderful idea. Only problem was it did not work. The pain still continued. As she gazed down at the gun, she briefly wondered if shooting herself in the head would relieve the pain.

_Don't do that you daffy bitch! _Evil Princess shouted at her. _You'll die! We are not ready to die just yet._ Princess agreed. She was not read to die. She was way too young for that. Nineteen is not the right age to die. Thirty sounded like a good age, maybe older, but not nineteen.

The man fell into a seat no longer able to stand. He was still in shock. Slowly, he was bleeding to death and it was all caused by a girl half his size. Princess' head tilted to the side as she gazed down at him. "Does it hurt?" she asked quietly. There was no reply to her answer so she answered it herself. "I guess not. You're not screaming. I thought being shot would hurt. Maybe I was wrong." Spotting the sliver clasp of his pocket knife, Princess walked closer to him and retrieved it. Using both hands, she opened it up.

It was a simple blade. Nothing special about it. A sliver handle and blade to match. Etched onto the blade were the words "sterling silver 420", very common words on any blade. The silver object reminded her of the one Andy religiously carried around. The one he had threatened her with so many times before. Though the fabric of the hospital gown she wore, she lightly traced the scar.

"_Look what you made me do!"_ Andy's voice rang out in her head causing her to flinch. _"You're bleeding all over my sheets."_

The hand that held the knife clenched so tightly around the object her knuckles turned white and the edges of the handle bit into her flesh. It was him. Andy. Andy had given her that scar. He was the reason for all the pain in her life. Him. No one else but him. She hated him so much. Wanted to kill him. That's what she was going to do. Kill him. She needed to kill him.

A torturous scream filled the ears of Joker's men and the hostages. Before it even ended, Doc was rushing to the bus. He had to make sure that it was not Princess. The gunshot he had heard earlier had not effected him. Doc had been positive that it was Joker shooting the man for interrupting what ever it was he was doing. But the scream, the scream could only be her.

Reaching the entrance of the bus, he spotted her stumbling down the steps. Her hands covered in blood, but just her hands. The normal pale her skin wore was ghastly white, and her eyes wide as she stared at her blood stained finger. Like a leaf in the wind she was shaking. "Princess?" Doc gently called to her.

Her head shot up. "I killed him," she told him. "I stabbed him. Stabbed him over and over again. He kept screaming. I stabbed him in the throat and he stopped. I killed him, Doc. He's dead. Dead." Princess' voice never raised in volume or pitch. It stayed in monotone.

Doc knew the signs of shock. There was nothing he could do for her at the moment. "I'm going to go on the bus, I'll be right back," he reassured her. Her head bobbed up and down in response and her eyes traveled back to her hands.

Stepping onto the bus, he noticed that Joker was still alive and staring down in a seat. He figured as much. There would have been no way Princess could have killed the man. So, that only left one person for her to have killed. Doc moved next to the man to see what he was looking at. He quickly regretted it.

It was definitely the body of the man. Several stab wounds wept blood freely. A once silver knife protruded from his throat. "I think she's crazy," Joker stated to the man.

Doc rolled his eyes as Joker cackled beside him. Leaning over, he reached his hand out to check the man's pulse. He knew it was futile, but it was second nature to him. As quickly as he placed his hand there, he jerked it away. "Shit," he exclaimed. "He's still alive."

Joker shrugged and walked off. "Take care of him then."

With that he left Doc on the bus alone with the dying man. With shaking hands, Doc removed the knife from the man's neck. A gush of blood poured out of the wound. Heaving a shaky sigh, Doc did the only thing he could think of. He further opened the wound on the man's neck. He dropped the knife and took a step back and stared down at the body. Never once did his hazel colored eyes stray from that body until it no longer bled.

That was the first life he had ever taken. Staring done at the now cooling body he felt nothing. It had been a necessary thing he had done. It had been a mercy killing. The man would have lived much longer in pain had Doc not opened that wound just a little further. Taking a life had been much easier than he had expected. Something that he could do again if he had to without remorse.

But there was something a little more important to worry about at that moment. She was standing outside by herself in a state of shock in nothing but a hospital gown. Tearing his eyes off of the corpse, Doc left the bus. Princess was leaning against it staring out into the city shivering. Removing his coat, he offered it to Princess. She did not seem to notice the gesture, just kept staring at the landscape. "Princess," he lightly called. She tore her eyes away from the city and gazed at him. "Here, take my jacket."

Princess refused with a shake of the head. "I'll get blood on it."

"I don't mind. Besides," he started with a smile, "you're going to need it."

"Why?"

"Because we're leaving. I'm getting you out of here and take you somewhere safe and far away from him as possible." Without her approval, he helped her into the coat. "I was thinking about leaving the city. Maybe starting fresh somewhere else."

Violently, Princess shook her head. "I don't want to leave the city. I've never left it before."

"Okay, we don't have to leave the city. We'll just make do with what we got here. Wait here," he commanded as he entered the bus once again. Once he found what he was looking for he went back to Princess.

She watched with interest as he tucked the gun into the back of his pants and hid it with his shirt. "Will we need it?"

"You can never tell in this city. Better safe than sorry." Princess wholeheartedly agreed. "Alright, let's go!" Gently he grabbed Princess' arm and started to lead her away from the bus.

"Won't he be mad at you for running away?"

"I highly doubt he's worried about me. He's got bigger things to worry about at the moment." Princess just nodded.

After that, nothing was said for a long period of time. They just walked briskly across the city. That was until Princess spotted a public restroom. "Doc, I have to wash my hands. I can't keep walking around the city with blood on me."

"Fine, hurry up," he rushed her.

As quickly as she could she ran into the little room and to the sink. Shrugging off the jacket so she did not get it wet, she turned on the facet not caring if it was hot or cold. All she wanted to do was get the blood off, a task that she deemed rather difficult. It seemed that no matter how hard she scrubbed, the blood would not come off. It just stuck there like flies on sticky paper. With her frantic scrubbing, tears started to spill from her eyes.

"Oh my god, here comes the water works!" Evil Princess exclaimed. "Is that all you can do, cry? You really are pathetic."

"Shut up," Princess sobbed. She refused to look up at the mirror. Her attention stayed on her now clean hands that she still fiercely scrubbed. "Just leave me alone. I killed someone. I killed a man and he did nothing to me."

"Boo who. No one cares. You know you really don't. That was not the first person you saw die. You've seen that plenty of times."

"It was the first person I killed!"

"And it won't be the last. So, stop your crying."

Princess continued to wash her hands. A significant amount of time passed and she continued to rub her hand together viciously though the lather had long since dissipated. The blood just would not come off. A moment passed when she thought it could all be in her head, but she ignored it. How could it just be in her head? She could feel it on her hands. She could smell it. And she was sure if she licked her hand she would be able to taste it. All she wanted at that moment was for the stuff to come off of her hands. It just would not. It will always be there. Never could she rid herself of it.

"Princess?" Doc called lightly to the girl. She had been taking so long he had to come in and make sure that she was alright. From the way her body shook and how she sobbed, he would say that she was far from alright.

In fright, Princess spun around. She had not even heard him come in. She could not hear anything over her body racking sobs. They had even drowned out the voice that was in her own head. "It won't come off," she confessed to him.

Slowly and carefully, Doc made his way to Princess as if he were approaching a frightened animal. When he was close enough, he took her hands into his. They were perfectly clean, a little red from her fierce rubbing, but clean none the less. It was all in her head, but she would never come to realize it. "Okay. I'll help you then." Gently turning her around, her back against his chest, he placed her hands under the still running water. He rubbed his hands across hers and she flinched. "What's wrong?" he asked in her ear.

"Your hands are rough. I thought all doctors' hands were smooth."

Doc chuckled lightly. "That's because they don't do manual labor. I do. My father raised me to be a jack of all trades. It didn't work out too well, but I can still do a lot on my own."

"Jack of all trades?" Princess questioned. She had heard that before but could not remember what it had meant.

"It's a person that can do everything. Well, almost everything. I don't believe anyone could do everything." After one last swipe of his hands across hers, he removed them from the water. "Is that better?"

She studied her hands with much scrutiny. Inspecting every crease in them to make sure no minuscule droplet of blood was left in them. Her eyes caught nothing and she smiled up at Doc. "It's all gone."

He returned her smile. "Good. Now, let's get going." Picking up his jacket off the floor, he once again helped her into it. Once the coat was secured around her tiny form, Doc grabbed her hand and walked her out of the bathroom and down the street.

"Where are we going?" Princess finally got the courage to inquire.

"I'm going to get you to a hotel where you'll take a shower and go to bed. I'm going to do a little running and return later," he answered.

"You're going to leave me alone!" Panic caused her to lose control of volume and pitch.

Doc stopped forcing her to do so as well. "Sshh," he cooed trying to calm her. He removed his hand from her and placed it on her cheek. "I'm not going to be gone for long. I just have to do a few things and I'll be back. I promise. Okay?" With a small sniffle, Princess nodded her head. "Good."

Wrapping his arm around her tiny shoulders, he led her to the closest hotel he could find. Luckily enough, he found one not twenty minutes later. It was a decent one that was decently priced. The tiled floors of the lobby were clean along with the furniture that was randomly placed around the room. The receptionist that greeted them and issued them their room was all smiles and genuinely nice. Much to Princess surprise and delight, someone actually showed them to their room. That was something she had never experienced before. He would have taken their luggage as well if they had had any.

The room was nothing she had ever seen before. Used to the dirty rooms of Bib's Place, she could never imagine anything else. But the rugs were ivory in color and there was not a questionable stain in sight. The walls were pure white and not the nicotine stained walls that she had seen. A four poster bed was placed in the middle of the room and had a thick white cover along with fluffy pillows with white pillow cases. A couple of chairs and a coffee table sat in front a very nice television. Princess had never seen such a nice room before and was in wonder. She made her way to the bed and lay on top of it.

After giving the man a hefty tip, he did a small bow of the head and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Doc turned around, searching the room for Princess. When his eyes landed on her asleep on the bed, he could not help but smile. She must have been exhausted from the experiences of earlier events. He knew that he was. But like he said, he had other some errands to run. Things to take care of before he left.

Quiet as a mouse, he left the room. He did not want to wake her up. While she had been with Joker she had not been allotted a significant amount of sleep, and she was going to need it. He had no idea what was in store for the pair of them. That was why he was leaving. So that he could gather supplies that they might need.

Shortly after seeing her in the hospital gown with stitches lining her right temple, he had decided that he was not going to leave her alone again. It was an easy decision on his part. Even leaving her alone safely tucked into a hotel room was making him nervous. He knew that he would be back, but it still did not ease his nerves.

He was prepared to make this trip as short as possible, but knew that was not going to happen. There was one thing that he had to do that he had not done in years. Something he dreaded more than leaving the sleeping Princess alone in the hotel room. He would save the horrid task for last, for it would be the one that would take the longest. It was a task that most grown men dreaded. Calling their mothers.


	16. Greg and Jessica

By the time Doc returned to the hotel the sun was dipping below the city line. It all was going according to plan, the citizens of Gotham would be trying to get out of the city as fast as the possibly could. The only option that they would have would be to take the ferries, just as Joker wanted them to. There was nothing on the bridges and nothing in the tunnels, but Joker had found a way to entice them to take the ferries by making them believe that they were the only way out of the city. Whatever. They mattered little to Doc. At the moment, what was important to him was sleeping in a hotel room by herself.

Trying to understand Doc's quick attachment to Princess would involve having to dig into his past relationships with women, which there were plenty of. Princess just so happened to be the type of woman that he was attracted to. Weak and helpless. The reasoning behind this fact was not that they were easier to dominate. Oh no, Doc did not play the dominance game. It was the fact that he felt the urge and need to take care of them. It was the fact that they needed him and were reliant on him. He needed a woman to be dependant on him.

Strange how men were the total opposite for him. When he chose a man they had to be strong and independent. They absolutely had to be able to take care of themselves. They did not have to take care of him though. Doc was a very independent male and hated to rely on people. It was his belief that people would just let him down, and they had never once proven him wrong. He did not believe there was a person in the world that would be able to prove him wrong. If his own family could not do it, then how could anyone else.

Slipping the keycard into the slot, Doc entered the room quietly. Princess was still asleep on the bed and he did not want to wake her. The two large duffel bags that he had been carrying, he set down next to the door. In them were numerous things that they would need. Some clothes for Princess that included a hat to cover the wound on her head. The clothes were simple and quickly bought at a thrift store along with a pair of slip on shoes. Weapons and ammo he had taken from the now abandoned hideout that he used to reside in with the Joker. The other bag was filled to the brim with money that had been from when Joker had made a withdraw from the mob bank a few days earlier.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Doc made his way to the bed. Once he reached it he climbed on and rolled onto his back. Tired from hauling the two heavy bags all across town he was ready to sleep. His eyes slowly started to close, but he shot up forcing himself awake. There was still one more task that he had to do.

Calling his mother would be a horrid experience. She would be upset of the fact that he had not called her for years. In fact, he had been avoiding her and his sister before he had moved to Gotham. Now, in his greatest time of need, he had to call her. Not that she would care. Olivia Johnson was a very conceited woman. The only reason why she cared about him and his twin sister, Alicia, was only because they were hers. She considered them her property and not her children.

He pulled out the pay as you go phone he had just purchased while he was out and dialed what he remember as the house number. He hoped that his mother had not changed her number. He knew that she did not move. There was no possible way she would have left the extravagant house his father had left her. And his father had left her enough money to live three lifetimes on without working. That was not including the money that he had left both of his children as well. Doc would have been set for life had he not run into trouble with the law. Trouble for something that he did not do. He had done many illegal things, but, until recently, murder was not one of them.

When he had walked into his home that fateful night a few years back, he had found a body. A body of a man that he had known only briefly. The man had been brutally murdered, nearly unrecognizable as a human much less a man. All the signs pointed to him as the murder, and so in fear he had ran away. Ran to the only town that he could think to go with nothing but the close on his back. Gotham. Gotham was filled with murders of all sorts, so finding him would have been like finding a needle in the haystack.

Months past, or maybe it was years, he could not tell, before Joker found him. Time was of no importance when you lived on the street. Finding food and shelter were the only things that had mattered to him at that time. Some nights he went without either and those were the harshest of nights. Having been used to living a life in luxury, he had found it rather difficult to cope without not even the bare necessities one need to live. After a while, he had found a way to cope. That's all one could do, cope.

The moment Joker had found him, Doc had been digging in a dumpster, scrounging for some food. He had not even realized the man was there until he had ripped him out of the dumpster and threw him to the ground. From his back, Doc glared up at the man.

"You look useful," Joker stated in his high nasally voice as he leaned against the dumpster. At this point in time, Joker had not had his colorful suit. He was still a two bit criminal with no name. His face had been painted and his greasy hair dyed a bright green, and had not started to fade yet. "What's your name?"

"Greg," dully Doc had told him. He was not really interested in what the man was selling and was getting ready to tell him so, but he never got a chance.

"So, Greg, what can ya do in the ways of crime?"

"Nothing. I've never fired a gun nor have I ever stolen anything. I was a medical student though."

"A, uh, doctor, huh? Well, you might be more useful than I, uh, originally thought." Doc watched as the man's tongue flicked across his lower lip. The action at the time had reminded him of a lizard. "I'll give ya food, a place ta live, and money if ya work for me."

Doc had readily agreed. He had had him at food. Three days had gone since he had a morsel to eat and food was the only thing on his mind at the time. It had been the reasoning behind him riffling through the dumpster that sat behind an Italian restaurant. There had been nothing in that large green dumpster except curdled milk. He may have been starving but he still knew better than to make himself sick. Being sick was something that could kill him a lot faster than starving.

Over a year later, he was sitting on a phone in a nice hotel room waiting for his mother to pick up on the other end. After the fifth ring, he sort of got his wish. "Johnson residence," an older male voice called to him. Doc recognized the voice as James, the family butler, well, one of them.

"Hey James, it's Greg," he spoke quietly into the receiver. A quick glance at Princess told him that she was still asleep.

"Mister Greg!" James exclaimed in astonishment. "It's been so long since we have heard from you. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to speak with my mother. Is she home?"

"Yes, she is. I'll go get her for you right away, sir."

"Thank you."

James made no reply. He had already gone to get Doc's mother. Running his fingers through his hair, Doc sighed once again. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to. The first thing that would be out of his mother's lips would be "Why did you leave me?" Five words he dreaded to hear. She was so vain she would believe that he had left because of her, even though she knew full well what had happened for he had explained it to her.

He heard muttering. Then, to his delight, "Why did you leave me?" his mother's voice called to him in mock hysterics.

"Nice to hear from you, too, Mother," he answered snidely. "I can just feel the motherly warmth flow right off of you. No wonder Dad shot himself," he mumbled under his breath.

It was a known fact that his father did not marry his mother out of love, but for her looks. In her younger years, Olivia had been a very attractive young woman that attracted the eyes of many a man around her. The only one that she had eyes for was Stephen Johnson, and the reasoning was for his money. Out of all of her suitors, he had been the wealthiest and still collected a good amount of wealth from his career as a doctor. Stephen Johnson had been born rich just like his father before him and his father before him and so on and so forth.

"I will not take blame for your father's death. I did nothing wrong. I was a wonderful wife and mother."

Doc could not help but scoff. She had been a cold and distant mother, the opposite of his father. His father had taken great lengths to make sure that he spent quality time with his children. Besides her looks, the only thing Stephen had wanted out of Olivia was children. After Doc and Alicia were born, she had refused to have anymore. That had been fine with Doc's father. In fact, he had avoided all contact with the woman. He had not even left her a note when he killed himself, just to his children. As far as he was concerned, she had done her duties and was not worth his time.

"Yeah, Mother, keep telling yourself that."

"Now, listen here you little brat," Olivia hissed. "I was a very good mother and I'm a very good person. I don't need your little snide comments to tell me otherwise. You're just like your father."

Sighing, Doc rolled his eyes. Now, he had upset her and she would not listen to what he had to say. There was only one thing to do that could repair what he had done. Apologize. However much he hated to do so, he swallowed his pride and did so. "I'm sorry, Mother. You're right. You were the perfect mother and the perfect person." Might as well stroke her ego as well.

He could practically hear her smile. "You were always such a lovely boy, Greg. Now, what did you call for, Sweetie?"

"I'm in a bit of a bind."

"Again! First the whole murder thing, now something else. You really need to watch yourself Greg. You're making my image look horrible! Your name has been cleared of the murder charge, but you running away made me look guilty."

"Wait!" Doc called. "What do you mean my name has been cleared?"

"Just what I said. It's been cleared. They found the real murders shortly after you left."

"Murders? Who were they?"

"I don't know and I don't care. All I know is that your name is clear and my image is once again picture perfect." Doc growled. Of course, that would be all that she cared about. Her ego was larger than the multimillion dollar house she resided in. "Your sister would know. Why don't you give her a call?"

Doc stiffened. That was another thing he did not want to do. He and Alicia had a falling out a few years before. He had done something that he was not proud of. Well, at least, he thought he did it. That night he could not recall anything. All he could remember is waking up naked next to his sister's husband, Erik, and her walking into the room. The look on her face had crushed him. His sister was the single most important thing to him and he had done the most scandalous of things to her. He would never forgive himself for it.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"None sense, she would love to hear from you. She's been worried sick about you ever since you left. Give her a call. Besides, I'm sick of talking to you anyways. I have more important things to worry about at the moment. I'll give you back to James and he'll give you her number."

Without so much as a good-bye or I love you, she was off of the phone and James was informing Doc of his sister's number, which was the same cell phone number she had before he had left. As soon as he had converted the number to memory, he said his thank you to James and hung up. Before he started to dial the number, he quickly glanced over at Princess who was still sleeping. He would wake her up eventually so that she could take a shower and change into something clean, but for now, she would sleep.

After dialing the number, he hit the send button and placed the phone against his ear. It rang a few times, and then Alicia's sweet voice came through the speaker. "Hello?"

Doc cleared his throat, a sudden bout of nervousness hitting him. "Hey, Alicia. It's me, Greg."

"Greg!" she screamed so loudly he had to hold the phone away from his ear. "Oh my God, how have you been? I've been so worried about you! Where are you? Are you safe? You haven't gotten yourself into trouble again?"

He lightly chuckled. "No, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Olivia told me that my name has been cleared. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is. I can't believe you called her before me."

"I thought you were still mad at me."

"I wasn't ever mad at you, just a little upset. Besides, Erik told me what happened. The only thing you two did in that bed was sleep, nothing more. He said that you guys were pretty smashed that night and you kind of freaked out. Saying something about the government listening to you guys through your clothes. You know how you get when you're drunk." Yes, he does know. He get's very paranoid. "Anyways, you somehow convinced him to burn his clothes along with yours and then passed out on the bed."

"I'm shocked he can remember that. I don't remember a damn thing from that night."

Alicia laughed. "He didn't really remember it. For some reason, you guys video taped the whole night. I still have the tape if you want to watch it. It's hilarious!"

"I bet. Are you still living in the house?"

"Hell no! We moved. We're living in Gotham now."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, why?"

"That's where I'm at. Though, I'm sure I'm not living as comforting as you are."

"Well, that's about to change. Now that you're name has been cleared, you get your money back. All of it. I never realized how rich Dad was. He was a sick sadistic bastard, but he was loaded. Collectively, we have almost as much money as Bruce Wayne does."

"There's no fucking way we have that much money."

"Well, we do. I learned something while you were gone. Not only was Dad a famous doctor, but he did some shady deals with the mob as well. I don't know the whole story behind it, but he's got a lot of money stashed away in some private account only you can open."

Doc sat on top of the bed confused. Why would his father leave him as the only benefactor to that account? He had always shown favoritism to his sister, so why him. He was hoping it was a question his sister had an answer to. "Why me? Dad always liked you best, so why me?"

"I don't know!" Alicia exclaimed. "I wasn't privy to that information. You'll have to talk to Norman. He'll explain everything to you."

Norman Jamison was the family lawyer and best friend of Stephen Johnson that was until Stephen blew his brains all over his white walls of his hospital office. There was no man in this world that Doc's father had trusted more and he could understand that. Norman was a man that knew when to keep his mouth shut. And, being a lawyer, he had his ways of getting his father off of the many criminal charges that he had faced. He would have been Doc's lawyer in the murder trial had Doc not run away. He would have gotten him off as well. But none of that mattered at the moment.

"I'll have to pay him a visit sooner or later. I don't really want to return home."

"You won't have to. He's coming over tomorrow for dinner. I'll call him and let him know you're going to be there and we'll set everything up here. He can come over early and bring the papers along. You can finally have your life back." The smile that she wore was evident in her voice. "What are you going to do?"

For a moment, Doc thought about it. What was he going to do? At that moment, he had no idea. He would just think about it later. There were more important things for him to worry about. "I don't know. I'll worry about that later. Where do you live?"

Alicia gave her twin brother directions to her house. Her home resided just on the outskirts of Gotham and pretty close to Wayne Manor. The Palisades. Doc knew where it was, everyone did. There would be no problem of him finding it. A small smile crept on his face at the thought of seeing his sister once again. Not just her, Erik and their five year old son Trevor.

He had not seen Trevor in so long, and wondered just how much the boy had grown. The only memory Doc had of the boy was him as a chubby little baby. Shortly after he had been born, Doc had waken up next to Erik naked. In his shame he had left and avoided all contact with his sister and her family. He had not even visited them during the normal family holidays. At least his sister had forgiven him for that. But that had come easy for her considering nothing had happened between the two males.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." There was a long pause. "Where are you living?"

"Nowhere at the moment. I'm staying in a hotel room," Doc explained to her.

"Well, that's no place for a Johnson to be staying. You can stay here until I find you an apartment. There are many on the market." Alicia was a real estate agent. A very good one at that. She had not once failed to sell even the poorest of homes. She just had a way with words that could convince anyone to buy from her. The talent did not just fall to selling homes. She could convince anyone, even strangers, to give her anything she wanted. Doc remembered a time when she convinced an older gentlemen to give her his overly expensive watch, which she broke before his eyes.

Looking at the still sleeping Princess, Doc reached a decision. "What about a house?"

Alicia was taken aback. Long ago, Doc had told her the only time he was going to get a house was when he planned on settling down. She never thought that day would happen. He was just not the type to stick with one person. There had always been multiple lovers in his life. For him to say such a thing was a huge leap. "Don't tell me the great heartbreaker Greg is planning on settling down."

"Sort of. It's complicated."

"With you it always is. Nothing can ever be simple. Is this complication male or female?"

"Female."

Another shocker. "Really? Wow. I thought you would never turn back to another woman since that bitch Michelle betrayed you with your best friend. What made you change your mind?"

A long sigh left Doc. "Like I said, it's complicated. I'll explain everything to you tomorrow. It's not something I want to discuss over the phone."

"Fine, I won't pry." Another long pause. Doc could practically hear Alicia chewing on her bottom lip. "It was her, you know. Michelle. She's the one that murdered that guy and set you up. Her and the prick. Both of them are in jail now. They won't ever live a life past the bars they are behind now."

Doc had figured it had been the pair to set him up. What he did not understand was why. Why did they do it? He had cared deeply for both of them. Michelle, he thought, was the love of his life. He had even asked her to marry him only to be shot down. Twice. Each time had broken a little more of his heart. That never made him give up on her. He had been so young and stupid. It had been obvious even to him that she was screwing around on him. Love makes you blind, among other things.

"Karma's a bitch." Was all he had to say in the matter. It earned him a giggle from his sister. Hearing her laugh put a smile on his face as it always did. When they were growing up, it had been his goal in life to forever keep her smiling. The heartbroken look he had received from her when she caught him naked in bed with her husband had made it hard for him to look at himself in the mirror. He had hated himself for so long after that, but no longer. There was no reasoning behind it anymore. Nothing had happened. He had more self control than he previously thought.

After her fit of giggles died down, she said, "I can't wait for tomorrow now. I miss you so much! It's felt like forever since I've last seen you. I can't wait to see that little complication of yours as well. She must be a pretty little thing to catch your attention."

Doc smiled. He could not wait to see his younger sister of two minutes. "What time do you want me to come over?"

"Early. I want to spend the entire day with you. I'll even make Erik call off of work."

The bed shifted as Princess rolled over. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye." Her voice nearly squealed with the excitement that she felt.

Before Doc could pass on his farewells as well, Alicia hung up. Chuckling lightly, Doc removed the phone from his ear. "Who was that?" asked Princess. She had woken up near the end of his conversation and heard very little. What she did hear, she did not like. Hearing "Love you" come from Doc's lips had sent a pang of jealous through her. Princess did not understand the feeling. Never once had she been jealous before. There had never been the need for that emotion in her life. She just knew she did not like it.

"My sister," Doc told her. "We're going to go see her tomorrow. I hope you don't mind."

Shock was written on Princess' face. She had never met someone's family before. Sure, she had met Selina's sister Holly, but that did not count. Selina was her friend. Doc was her friend as well, but he was male. "I don't mind." Her already wide eyes widened even more and she quickly sat up. "What am I supposed to wear?!"

"Don't worry about that," Doc told her laughing. "We'll get you some clothes tomorrow. I already bought you some, but I don't think they'll be appropriate for the occasion. They're a little plain and not flattering at all."

"How are you going to buy anything? We don't have any money."

"I took some money from the hideout. Joker won't miss any of it. He never cared for it anyways."

At the mention of Joker, Princess shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Hearing his name reminded her of the man that she thought she killed. Her knees automatically came to her chest and she cradled them in her arms. "I never killed anyone before," she said more to herself than Doc.

"And you didn't. When I went on the bus, he was still alive. I killed him," Doc informed her. He was trying to comfort her with those words and it worked.

Princess smiled up at him. "Thank you." Her voice was lost but the gratitude was not. The thanks was not just for him killing the man but for everything he had done for her since and before.

Doc understood full well what she was thanking him for. "It was nothing." An ironic smile found itself on his face. "I have a thing for women in need."

Princess had no reply for that. A woman in need she definetly was, that she was sure of. Doc would find out later just how needy she was. Not that it would bother him. He liked having someone that was dependent on him. Something he craved more than anything was someone to take care of. It had been the reasoning behind him wanting to become a doctor, along with the pressure from his father. Taking care of someone gave his life a purpose and he needed a reason to stay on this planet. Princess would prove to be just the person that he needed. Until her dying day she would be reliant upon him.

Just as much as she needed him he needed her. "Come here," he commanded while waving her over with his hand. Without question she crawled over to him. Brushing her hair out of the way he checked the wound on her head. Besides being a little red, nothing was wrong with it. There was no sign of infection, something he was very grateful. "Your poor little head took a beating," he stated solemnly.

Princess shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing that hasn't happened before."

"Any pain in your arm or hand?"

Princess shook her head. "Not anymore. I thought I broke my hand though. I punched the guy that did this." She gestured to her right temple. "I never hit anyone before."

"You must have done it right if you didn't break your hand. Glad to hear that you stuck up for yourself."

Before she could stop herself, Princess blurted out everything about the voice in her head. She placed it as the reasoning behind her that little bit of newfound strength she had. Told him it had been the reasoning why she had broken the mirror and why she had so violently attacked the man on the bus. How she only hears it when she was upset in some way. Never once did he interrupt her even when she explained it was, also, behind her change in speech. Just sat and listened to her spill out what had been troubling her for days. "I think I'm going crazy." Was what she ended her confession with.

Doc shook his head. "I don't think so. I think it's always been there. Everything. The anger, the hate, and the strength. You just pushed it away so that you could survive what you've been through. It's really you thinking those thoughts, feeling those feelings, and your mind is just projecting it as another individual as another way to save itself. Once you come to terms with it, you'll be fine." With all actuality he was not certain. Maybe she really was going crazy, but, to him, that was understandable. Her mind had gone through a lot over the past few years and shattering.

Even if it was a lie, Princess felt much better. She rested her head on his shoulder and his arm instantly wrapped around her small frame. "I don't want to be Princess anymore," she confessed. The name reminded her too much of Joker and Andy. Though a man she cared deeply about had given it to her, it was now tainted. Tainted by the evils of others.

"Who do you want to be?"

"I want to go back to being Jessica. I like that name better now anyways."

"If you're going back to being Jessica, then I'll go back to being Greg."

Princess nodded her head in confirmation. Once again, she was turning over a new leaf, starting a new life. No longer was she going to be Princess, but Jessica. She was going to try her best in becoming more than the prostitute that she once was. Her new life would not be as bad. There would be no more abuse or rapes that had come with being Pricness. Well, she hoped. Hoped with every fiber of her being.

At least she would not be alone. Greg would be there with her every step of the way. He would help her, and she would need a lot of help. She did not even know if she could function normally in society. For five years she had been confined to the Narrows and the horrors of that part of town. Life was so much different there than anywhere else in Gotham. She knew that. Somehow she knew she would manage. As long as Greg was with her.

Greg would stick by her no matter what. He needed her just as much as she needed him. His life had found a purpose again and he was not going to let it go willingly. Taking care of Jessica would be hard, but it would be satisfying. With her by his side his life would no longer be empty. That fact made him a very happy man.

Greg informed Jessica it was time to sleep. Though she did not feel that tired, Jessica complied. She could tell that he was tired and needed to rest. They had a long day ahead of them and he and she would need all the rest that they could accumulate. Meeting his sister would be a strange thing to her, but Jessica believed she would be able to survive through it. With him beside her, she could survive through any ordeal thrown at her. It was comforting to know that there was someone who would stand next to her and take care of her.

Minutes later she fell asleep with his arms around her. That night she had the fittest sleep she had ever had. For the first time in a while, she felt truly safe.


	17. Sister Dearest

White walls surrounded the bright room. The tiles on the floor were a pristine white cleaned with such precision that they sparkled and the contents of the room reflected off of them. An island sat in the middle of the room, its countertop white and a light colored wood for the base. The stove top was white as well and the counter tops it sat in the middle of were of the same hue and sat on the far side of the kitchen. Sunlight poured through the window reflecting brightly on the freshly clean floors and countertops.

Jessica was momentarily blinded by the room. Once her eyes adjusted, she gazed about the room in wonder. Never had she seen a room so clean or so white. Even the many hospitals room she had been in could not compare to this. It was simply amazing. Alicia had told her that she cleaned the entire house herself and Jessica simply could not fathom it. Everything was cleaned with such precision that one could eat off of the toilet if they so wished. It was very hard for Jessica to believe that a woman could clean a house that big by herself and still have time to be a mother and have a job on top of that.

Alicia had explained that she worked mostly from home and only ventured out when she had a house to show or errands to run. No matter where she went, she took her son with her. For once such as his age, he was very well behaved. A fact his mother did not let escape anyone's attention. She practically shoved it done Jessica's throat when she had inquired about it.

Staring at the woman as she, Greg and Alicia sat at the island in the kitchen, she came to the conclusion that Alicia did not care for her. Not in the least. Every time she thought Jessica was not looking, she would glare at the young woman. Jessica caught her doing so so many times, but never said anything, she was used to not being liked what was one more to add to the list. The only problem she had with it was why. Why did the woman not like her? Jessica had never done anything to her. She had just met her only hours before. Not being able to handle the heated glares anymore, Jessica excused herself saying she had to use the restroom.

Once Jessica was out of the room, Alicia quickly reeled on her brother. "Just what in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" she hissed at him afraid Jessica would over hear her. "She looks like a child!"

Doc ran his fingers through his hair. "I told you it was complicated. She's older than she looks."

Rolling her hazel eyes, Alicia asked, "What, is she sixteen or seventeen?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh, because that's so much better," she sardonically remarked. "Have you completely lost your mind?" And on and on she went. Ranting and raving about how stupid and insane he was. Never giving him the chance to speak. Never letting him explain.

Not being able to take it anymore, Greg slammed his fist against the island's countertop causing the cup of coffee in front of him to jump. "If you would shut up for one goddamn minute I'll explain everything to you. Jesus fucking Christ." Taking a deep calming breath, he related his tale to her. He went into great detail about all that had happened and tried his best to get his little sister to sympathize with Princess/Jessica. It did not happen as he figured it would not. Alicia did not feel pity for anyone.

"I don't give a flying fuck how hard her life was. I don't like her and I don't trust her. Just you watch, Greg. She'll leave you. She'll leave you just like that other bitch did. Or she'll turn out to be just like our mother."

Jessica stood next to the doorway, leaning against the wall, and listening to what Alicia had to say about her. She did not want to come in and interrupt what she had to say. Apparently Greg did not like that last comment that his sister spoke for he started to yell at her. The argument grew louder and louder and still Jessica stood where she was.

"She's not normally like this," a male voice called to her. Jessica's head shot up and saw that it was Alicia's husband, Erik. "She's just very overprotective of Greg. I don't think she wants him to have any woman in his life. So, don't pay heed to what she's saying now. It's just jealousy really."

Shrugging her shoulders, Jessica pushed herself from the wall. "It really doesn't matter. If she likes me, she likes me, if not, then she doesn't. People like you or they don't. There's nothing you can do to change that."

Erik smiled a small smile. "You're right. You can never change what one thinks of you. Especially one as stubborn as Alicia." He took a moment to study Jessica, taking in everything of the young woman. She was grotesquely skinny and small for someone her age. Her dark hair, though brushed, still had a ratted appearance to it and held no luster. Medium sized lips were set in a constant frown. The sad gray eyes that she had were ones of someone much older than she was. Someone who had been through much in her short time on the Earth.

Earlier that day, Greg had taken her shopping with the money he had liberated from Joker's stash. With the money he had bought her clothes that he deemed worth of meeting his sister, though the woman had still looked at her with such scrutiny, trying her hardest to find every fault the girl had. Jessica wore faded blue jeans that hugged her hips and flared out at the bottom. They were accompanied with a black tank top and a long sleeved white shirt to cover the bandage that took up most of her left arm. Her right hand he could do nothing with. On her feet was a simple pair of black sneakers with white shoestrings. A simple but nice outfit. Nicer than any Jessica had worn before.

Somehow Jessica had known no matter what she wore Greg's sister would not like her. She had seen it in her eyes when she had first looked upon her. Never would she be good enough for her brother. She could only guess that's how families were. Always seeing the faults in the significant others of the ones they cared about. But that was how people were. They always saw the faults first and never the good. Jessica had many faults. No one was perfect and she was far from it.

Silently the pair stood by the door listening to Greg and Alicia argue. The shouts and screams did not cease until Norman appeared. With the siblings so heavily in their banter they had failed to realize the man was standing in the same room with them until he joined in on the fray. With a few simple but effective words they ceased and stared at him incredulously. When Norman had finished what he had said in the matter, he cleaned off his horned rimmed glasses and replaced them back on his face.

Taking a deep breath, he continued to glare at the two until they shuffled their feet uncomfortably. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" He set the leather brief case in his hands down on the table. Pushing the golden buttons the clasps shot open with a nice _click_. He pulled out a thick stack of papers stapled together in groups. Those he set in front of Greg. "I just need you to sign a few of these. There is no need to look them over. I have done so numerous times and you have nothing to worry about." Norman was one of the few lawyers people could trust. The man did not lie nor did he cheat or steal. Honesty was what he lived by and he has lived a full honest life.

Jessica studied him from the around the corner. He was a short stocky man, just a few inches taller than her. The charcoal colored suit that he wore was tailored and fit him perfectly. Black loafers sat upon his feet with black round shoelaces. His undershirt was starch white and the tie he wore was of the same hue as his suit. His lips were thin and seemed to be placed in a permanent sneer. His nose was bulbous and flat reminding her of a camel's nose. His small eyes were a striking blue in color. The fact that his glasses were so thick just made his eyes look buggy and overly large. The sight of him nearly made Jessica giggle in amusement and fought hard to hold it back.

Erik left her and went to his wife's side. She appeared to still be upset until he whispered something in her ear. Her bright almond shaped hazel eyes widened and her full lips parted forming a shocked expression. Jessica had to admit, no matter what expression she wore on her face, Alicia was still just as perfect as her brother. It was highly evident that the two were related for they looked exactly alike. The only difference was that Alicia was a woman and her features were feminine while Greg was all man.

With scratchy handwriting, Greg signed all the necessary papers. Once finished, he handed them back to Norman and glared at his sister. How she was reacting toward Jessica disgusted him. She had been the one person he had thought would understand, but he had been wrong. Deep down he knew it was just jealousy on his part. Had he not reacted the same way when she had brought Erik home the first time? He had. He had been severely jealous that some other man could complete his twin sister in a way that he could not. In time, he would come to forgive her, but not then.

"Now that everything is in order," Norman started briefly skimming through the papers he had Greg signed, "I'll explain to you why your father left you, Greg, all the money in his secret account."

"Just get it over with," Greg harshly stated. "I don't want to be here for too much longer."

With a huff Alicia stormed out of the room. There was no way she was going to take that in her own home. Not having the heart to throw her brother out, she decided it best that she leave the room. As she walked through the doorway she spotted Jessica out of the corner of her eye. Erik had informed her that the young woman had heard it all, every bitter and hated remark she had made about her. If she had known the girl was standing there the entire time, she would have kept her mouth shut.

Turning on her heels, she faced Jessica and folded her arms across her chest. "So, I guess you heard everything I said."

Indifference was the girl's expression when she gazed into Alicia's hazel hued eyes. "I did," she confirmed.

Alicia glared down at the young girl. Though she was sending the most hate filled glare she could muster the girl never waivered in her own stare. "I meant every word I said."

"I know."

"I'm not going to apologize." At this point Alicia was trying to anger Jessica. Give herself more of a reason to dislike the girl. It did not work.

Jessica just sighed. "Then don't," she flatly stated. "I don't care if you like me or not. I'm used to not being liked. I can count the people that like me on my fingers." Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and took a step toward Alicia. "You want to know the reason why I don't care what you think of me, hm?" Not waiting for a reply, she answered it herself. "Of course you do, everyone always wants to know. It's because you're not important. You don't matter to me. You can look down on me all you want, I know what I am. I know why I am what I am. Just remember one thing, looking down is a lot easier than looking up."

Eyes narrowed in anger, Alicia took a step forward closing the gap between her and the smaller woman. Her body was taut and rigid in her anger. "I don't need some little whore," she started jabbing her finger in Jessica's chest, "giving me life lessons. Now," Alicia lowered the volume of her voice to a near whisper not wanting Greg to hear her, "you listen to me, you little cunt, I want you to stay away from my brother. I want you to walk away and disappear forever. He doesn't need someone like you in his life. If it's his money you want, I'll gladly give you some as long as you keep away from him."

Breathing quick, heart beat erratic, and body tensed ready for anything, Jessica glared up at the woman. The red haze was starting to consume her vision and she heard laughter in her head. A dull pain shot through her hands when her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. The pain helped reside the red haze and the laughter died down. Jessica took a deep shaky breath trying to calm herself down, remembering what happened last time she had grown upset. It was a horror she did not want to relive.

It had become so easy for her to anger. Never before had she gotten so upset over such a thing. It had taken a harder push than what Alicia had just given her. She did not like the change in her. A fear that she might actually snap and physically hurt someone once again rose in her chest. That was something she did not want. She knew what pain felt like. Had felt it so many times before. Never did she want to inflict such physical harm on another being. The thoughts of doing so had to stop.

With quick silent steps Jessica left Alicia standing where she was and entered the kitchen. Her body was still tensed when she stood next to Greg's side. Placing a shaky hand on his left shoulder she caught his attention. "I want to leave!" she whispered urgently in his ear.

The frown already placed firmly on his face deepened. "What did she say to you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"It doesn't matter. She's not the reason I want to leave, I am. Can we go, please?"

The urgency in her voice and eyes caused Greg to quickly agree. Something was wrong that much he could tell. What is was he did not know. The only he could guess was that it had something to do with what she had told him the previous night. Her other persona must be bothering her.

He had heard her and Alicia arguing, sound carried well in that overly large house. By what Alicia had said to the younger woman there was no way Jessica could be anything but upset. If her confession was true, which he did not doubt for one moment, then "Evil Princess," as she liked to call her, would be trying to force her way out once again. Greg did not know the ways of the mind and could not come to a conclusion as to why the girl was developing another persona. The only possibility that he could come up with was stress on her mind.

For years Jessica had been forced to do things and have things done to her that were horrid to think about. She had bit back her anger for so long that it had developed a personality of its own. This other person had lay dormant for years until Joker fiddled with her mind. This undoubtedly had caused even more stress on her already frizzled mind unleashing something that would have otherwise stayed caged.

It would have been for the better if it did so. Be that as it may, it was now free and moved about Jessica's mind whenever it felt like. Luckily enough it had decided to only surface when she was angered. She was the type of person that did not anger quickly, but had been finding reasons to be so more and more often. Greg was going to try and change that. Maybe, just maybe, if he made her happy enough, her other darker side would dormant itself once again and bother her no more. One could only hope and hope was all he had. If all else failed, he would take her to Arkham.

Admitting her to the asylum was the last thing that he wanted to do, but if the need arose, he would do so in a heartbeat. He had heard many terrible things about the place. They were mainly from the time that Jonathan Crane was there. Crane's experiments on the patients were known to all of Gotham, and not just because of the incident in the Narrows.

After he had made his allegiances known to everyone, they had broadcasted the horrors of his homemade toxin. Now, everyone in Gotham had another fear to add to their list considering his drug had hit the streets. People inducing the drug into themselves now ran rampant in the streets. If they were caught, they were sent to the hospital for detox, and then sentenced to spend a lengthy time in either jail or Arkham. Mostly the latter depending on how long the drug had been in their system. The halls of Arkham were now overflowing.

Taking Jessica's hand Greg gave Erik and Norman his apologies and led her toward the door. Alicia was still standing where Jessica had left her, glaring as they left the house. Before he walked out the door, he sadly shook his head at his sister. He was deeply disappointed in her reaction to the girl whose fingers were entwined in his. Of all people, he would have thought that she would be the most understanding. He had been proven wrong, something that he did not like.

Alicia had always been the one to understand him the most. She had always stuck by his side no matter the terrible decision he had made. Always was she there to comfort him when he needed it or to lend a helping hand. This time, however, she had been closed minded and hateful. Never had she reacted that way to any lover or potential lover before. There had always been a smile on her face as she told him that she thought they were "nice."

In place of that smile was now a frown. Her unreasonable hatred toward the younger woman had ripped a large hole in his heart. He could not fathom as to why Alicia had reacted in such a way toward the girl. What could have caused it? It mattered little to him. Jessica was there to stay. She needed him and he needed her. In his heart he knew she would not use him as Alicia believed she would. Jessica had not even known about his money until that day.

One day he will make his sister see Jessica differently. Alicia will come to realize that Jessica is not the type of person she had made her out to be. Jessica was a very loyal person and had proved that much, though it was with a man that should not have earned it. She would not abandon him as Michelle had done before. She was not that type of gal. Besides, he no longer had a best friend for her to leave with.

As they stepped outside the grip Jessica had on his hand tightened and she subconsciously moved closer to him. He had noticed she did this every time they stepped out into the open. Her eyes frantically scanned the area making sure that there were no people about. When this had first happened, Greg believed that she was fearful that Joker might come and snag her. After hearing of his capture earlier that day while they had been shopping it had not ceased. It had dawned on him that it was not Joker she was afraid of, but the mob. She had not needed to tell him so.

Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he walked her to the van he had liberated from the hideout as well. Joker was no longer going to need it, and most of the henchmen were either in prison or Arkham as well. There was no a single soul that was going to miss that dirty raggedy van. A rust bucket is what it was. It color was, as Jessica had dubbed it, shit brown and there were spots of rust near the bottom of the vehicle. Some spots were rusted so badly that it had eaten completely through the metal. It ran terribly, but it ran. It got them from point A to point B without stalling. That was a plus in Greg's book. One plus in the pool of negatives.

When they reached the banged up vehicle, Greg opened the door for her and Jessica jumped into the passenger seat. Instantly she buckled herself in. Being used to walking everywhere, it was hard for her to feel safe in any hunk of metal. Once she was secure, she closed her eyes and gripped the armrest of her seat so tightly her knuckles turned ghastly white. When the engine roared to life and the van started to move, her grip, if it were possible, grew even tighter.

The entire ride to the hotel was in silence. Greg would have turned on the radio but the speakers were blown and all that came out of them was white noise. Some people believed that the sound of static was relaxing, but Greg found it annoying. It grated on his system and made it hard for him to concentrate for a headache would ensue. He already had a headache and did not need a bigger one on top of it.

Once he parked the van and they reached the hotel room, Jessica instantly ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She stood before the sink, her hands resting on the cool white, with flecks of gray, marble that made the countertop. Her strong gaze was kept on the silver facet out of fear of her reflection. It had become a habit to avoid her reflection at all costs.

After several minutes alone, Greg decided to enter the room with her. She heard him enter but did not look to him afraid to let her gaze wonder anywhere but the facet. He stood behind her, towering over her small frame. Being nearly as tall as Joker, Jessica's head only came to about the center of his chest when she stood at full height. She liked taller men, but, then again, just about every man was taller than her.

Never did they say a word to each other. Just stood there in silence. Her afraid to speak, him not wanting to impose on her thoughts. Just his presence alone comforted her. Made her feel safe. It had been a long time since she had felt truly safe. Something in her had always rejected all others. Her body, a small piece of her mind, or her heart. Nothing wanted to push him away. There was just something about him that she had to keep close to her. Something that made her want him to stay. A something that she could not explain and she didn't want to try.

Closing the gap between them, Greg rested a comforting hand on her left hip and gave it a little squeeze. She responded by leaning back and resting her head on his chest. His right arm crossed over to her chest, while his lest hand traveled across her rest, pulling her closer to him. Almost instantly her arms wrapped around his right one and hugged it as close as possible to her.

"Don't leave me," she begged him.

"I won't," he reassured her. "Don't leave me."

Shaking her head she replied, "I won't. I need you."

That was something he needed to hear. Confirmation that she really did need him, that he was not just imagining things. Leaning forward, Greg's warm lips found her neck. When they touched her skin, Jessica sighed in content. Her left hand left his arm and traveled to his face and then ran her fingers through his hair. He spun her around and their lips met for their first kiss.

As they kissed, he started to strip her of every article of clothing she wore and she kicked off her shoes and socks. When she was bare, he spun her around, her back to him once again. "Don't turn around," he whispered huskily in her ear. She obeyed and shivered against the cold gust of air that came through the open door.

With her eyes closed, still afraid to gaze upon her own reflection, she heard the rustle of clothes as he removed them. She wanted badly to turn around but refrained from doing so, she was still as obedient as ever. It was only when his hand ran up her thigh that she knew he was done. Warm and gentle it was, though the calluses made it rough. A shiver of delight ran through her and goose bumps rose on her flesh.

For the better part of a minute, Greg's hands roamed her body. She was skinny, too skinny. Her ribs poked out of her flesh as did her spine and nearly every other bone in her body. She was very malnourished. When he had taken her out to breakfast that morning, she had explained that she only ate once a day for if she ate more, she would get sick and vomit it back up. That was something he planned to change. He was not going to let her live through life as grotesquely skinny as she was.

It was a big turn off for him, but it had been so long since he felt the pleasures of the flesh from another they at the moment he could overlook it. When his fingers pushed inside of her she whimpered and her back involuntarily arched. Everything about her was so small. Greg had no idea how she had survived being a prostitute or the beatings she had told him about. It had been evident that it was harsh on her body, that much he could see. Just on her back alone he had already counted six scars, not counting the cut that Joker had given her which was healing nicely. All of them were long and skinny being made from the same blade. He wondered who could have done such a thing to her.

Jessica had never informed him of Andy and would never. He was not important nor did she ever want to think of the man again. She had escaped him and would never see him again, she hoped. The only time she wanted to see the man again would be at his funeral. She would pay to see his body lowered to the ground. It would give her great satisfaction to spit on his coffin just before the dirt was thrown on top of it.

In slow rhythmic motions Greg's fingers moved inside of her. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning giving her room only to whimper. When he stopped, she groaned in protest. He leaned her over the cold counter of the sink and spread her legs further apart. "Are you ready?" he asked giving her hips a little squeeze. Not trusting her voice she nodded in response. "This might hurt a bit."

Jessica nearly scoffed at him. He was treating her as if this were her first time. It was far from that. She was about to inform him of such, but pain erupted through her body as he pushed himself in. In her surprise she cried out. From the pain her eyes started to water and overflowed into tears.

Seeing her tears Greg felt a pang of guilt. He had been trying to be as gentle as possible, but it seemed that it was not enough. It was the same with all the women he had been with. It always hurt at first. He was not so much as long, but wide and width is what counted. Jessica was a lot smaller than the previous women and must have hurt her a lot more. "I'm sorry," he whispered, after leaning over, into her ear. "We can stop if you want."

Violently Jessica shook her head in response. She did not want him to stop. Her body would later regret the decision, but at that moment it did not matter. She wanted it, wanted him. When he pulled out slightly and thrust back inside of her another wave of pain washed through her but not as strong. With every thrust her body became more and more accustomed to him and pleasure came in waves.

It was not long before she climaxed. Her halfhearted attempts at being quiet were not working so she gave up. Several orgasms later and when she became her loudest, Greg reached his peak. With one last deep thrust he climaxed and she was left with his body on top of hers still leaning against the now sweat covered marble countertop.

"I'm tired," she sniffled. Unexplained tears were falling from her eyes.

Lightly chuckling, Greg answered, "Then let's get you to bed. You can take a little nap, okay?" When she did not respond, he gazed down at her. Already she was falling asleep. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slowly growing heavier.

Pulling out of her, he gently lift her into his arms and carried her to the freshly made bed. He set her upon it and pulled the covers over her. Her only response was to roll over and snuggle into the pillow her head lay on. Soon her breathing grew rhythmic as she slept.

He left the side of the bed and headed into the bathroom. Gathering all the things he required, he readied himself for a shower. A knock came at the door of the hotel room and he growled in annoyance. Not bothering to cover himself he walked to the door and flung it open. Standing before him as a woman and what he guessed was her male companion. Both of their gazes instantly went down and the woman blushed. "Can I help you?" Greg asked crossing his arms against his chest.

"Um, I, we, uh," the man stuttered apparently forgetting why he was there. "Uh, no," he finally managed to spit out.

Wanting to play with them Greg smiled his million dollar smile. "Are you sure? I'll be glad to help you two out any way necessary."

If possible the woman's blush deepened. Her blush was so dark it took a purple hue giving her the appearance of a plum. Her male companion decided it was best that they leave. Gripping her arm tightly, he pulled her to their room which so happened to be next store. That gave Greg the clue as to why they had knocked on the door.

Shutting the door, he crossed the room to the bed. Seeing Jessica sleeping peacefully left him feeling exhausted. He concluded that he would just go to sleep as well. A shower could wait until he woke up. That way she could join him if she so wished.

Crawling on the bed and under the covers he lay on his back. Jessica rolled over and cuddled into him. Staring up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped around her, his eyes slowly started to close as he drifted into sleep. There was much for him to do, but he would worry about that later. Right then, he was happy where he was.

The first thing he was going to do was have a talk with his Sister Dearest. The way she had acted was abhorrent and he planned to tell her so. He was not going to sit by and let her treat Jessica like that. Alicia had acted like a child and he expected better from her.

Rolling over he pulled Jessica closer to his body and snaked her other arm around her waist. "'Night, Princess," he mumbled under his breath.

"'Night, Doc," sleepily she responded.

Another knock came from the door, but went unnoticed. Both had fell into a fitful sleep and could no longer hear anything from the outside world. Too wrapped up in their dreams and each other. Dreams and each other were all they had.


	18. Rippling Pools

Fall turned to winter and still Jessica was not accustomed to her new life. It was now Christmas Eve and snow covered the ground of the city. Large white flakes elegantly fell from the sky in a sea of white on the ground that was already covered in their cold brethren. She watched them as they glided down from the grey sky from the large window in her living room. When the wind would pick up some would float back upwards and dance with each other. Where ever one landed on the window it would fog until the tiny object melted.

The scuttled of tiny nails hitting the hardwood floor met Jessica's ears and she turned around with a smile on her face. Prancing up to her was the four month old Akita puppy Greg had gotten her to keep her company while he was at work, not that he needed to work. The puppy was an adorable little thing. His chest had a strip of white, coming all the way up to his chin surrounded by the brownish tan that covered most of his body. White covered all four of his paws giving him the appearance of wearing socks. The tip of his tail that curved over was white as well. The insides of his ears were a charcoal black as well as his snout. His ears lay off to the side making it appear as if his ears were too heavy for his body. Clumsy was his walk and showed his excitement at finding his master along with the adoration in his brown eyes.

Musket she had named him. It had been the first word to pop in her mind when Greg had first asked her what she wanted to name him. She did not know why, but the word had randomly popped into her mind. After it had appeared, nothing else came to her. So, Musket he was and it was too late to change it for he already happily responded to it.

Once he reached her, Musket's soft velvety tongue started to lap at her bare feet. Jessica giggled and bending over, scooped the little pup into her arms. In her arms the small dog struggled to lick her lips but settled with her chin when she held him at bay. Greg often complained that she was spoiling the dog by always picking him up or letting sleep in her lap. Many times he tried to explain to her that he was going to be too big to be a lap dog. She responded by saying Musket would then be the biggest lap dog in Gotham. This earned a roll of the eyes from the man.

Looking to the old grandfather clock that sat as tall as her in the far left corner of the room, she sighed heavily. It was almost eight o' clock in the morning. Greg's mother was due to come at ten and stay overnight with them for Christmas the next day. Two hours would seem like ample time to get ready, except the fact that it always took Greg at least an hour to drag him out of bed and then another hour to take a shower and get dressed. It took Jessica a maximum of half an hour to accomplish her morning routine. Five years of practice of getting dressed quickly really helped out.

She set Musket down on the floor and he wagged his tail peering up at her. "Musket," she called quietly placing her hands upon her knees. "It's time to wake up Greg!" The little pup's ears perked up at hearing the man's name and his tail moved back and forth in a fury. "Let's go get Greg, Musket!"

Before she removed her hands from her knees the little puppy took off as fast as he could. As he ran he appeared to be nothing more than an orange blur. A smile crossed her face when she stood fully erect as she heard the scrapping of his nails on the wooden stairs. Greg had told her once that he almost regretted getting the dog just for that fact that he kept scratching the hardwood floors as he ran. He had decided against having carpet installed for Musket already liked to pee on the only rug in the master bathroom they shared. Jessica had washed the thing so many times it was already faded from bright blue to a gray hue.

Training a puppy had been harder than Jessica had ever imagined. Never before had she ever owned a pet. They were never allowed in her father's house and when she was forced to live on her own she never had enough money to care for herself let alone another living creature. Even after Croc had moved in they still did not accumulate enough money to own a pet.

Having always wanted a pet she had been extremely ecstatic when Greg had handed her the little Akita. It had been difficult at first to get used to him, but now, she could not imagine not having Musket. Not only was she no longer lonely while Greg was at work, but having something to take care of had taught her patience. Something, she decided, that she had needed to learn. Having patience had taught her to control her anger, something she, more than most, needed to do.

A light skip in her step, Jessica headed up the stairs and into the bedroom she shared with Greg. Though Musket was lapping away at his face Greg was still fast asleep. Jessica was jealous of his ability to stay asleep. Once she was up, she was up. No matter where Greg was, he could find a way to fall asleep and stay asleep until forcefully awakened. He, also, had the ability to almost instantly fall asleep where as it took her normally an hour to finally fall asleep.

At spotting the man still past out, an evil smirk appeared on her face. As quiet as a mouse she crept to the side of the bed that he was sleeping on. Before she could carry out her evil plan, Greg grabbed her and yanked her onto the bed next to him. This sent Musket into a series of excited yips.

Jessica pouted and Greg laughed at her. "How long have you been up?" she asked him still pouting at the fact that she did not get to rudely awake him.

"For about an hour," he replied. "I've been waiting for you to come up. What took you so long?"

"I was watching the snow fall. It's so pretty. I wanted to go outside but it's too cold."

Rolling over to lean on her right elbow Jessica gazed down at the perfect man before her. The perfect face mixed with his toned but not overly muscular body made him seem more like a dream than reality to Jessica. The only flaw that he had that made him real was the large series of scars that cut across his chest down to his stomach. He had earned them in a bar fight against his best friend after he had found out that Michelle had been cheating on him with the other male. Rage had taken over both men and a fight had ensued. A broken beer bottle was the weapon used to earn him those.

Greg was very self conscious about them and they had been the reasoning behind him not wanting her to turn around the first time they had made love. The first time she had seen them was due to the fact that she had walked in on his while he was changing. He had tried to quickly cover them but she had stopped him. It was only after that she told him her take on scars that he had relaxed, though not much. He still tried to hide them as much as possible. She practically had to force him to go shirtless at night.

"Maybe later we'll get you bundled up and play in the snow together with little Musket over there," he stated pointing at the still yapping dog. The little pup was ecstatic and wanted to play. His owners ignoring him were making it all the worse on him.

"You know we can't do that," she chided him. "You're mother is going to stay with us for Christmas. She'll be here in a couple of hours." Greg groaned. "No complaining! You're the one that invited her to stay, remember?" Of course he remembered that mistake, the biggest one he had made since joining Joker. "Now, get up and get ready," Jessica commanded playfully. "After you're done, you can help me pick out something to wear."

Greg gazed down at what Jessica was wearing. A pair of black short shorts that she sometimes wore to bed covered her bottom. Her top was covered by a matching tank top shirt. "What's wrong with what you got on?"

Rolling her eyes, Jessica playfully slapped his chest. "I don't think this is proper attire for me to be wearing to meet your mother." Greg had gotten her a word of the day calendar and she had been religiously using them along with consuming every book that he bought her. She had forgotten how much she had loved to read when she was younger. After picking up the first book he had bought her a memory of her failing school because she read too much had crossed her mind. Reading had been her way of getting away from reality until it had bit her on the ass and took the only thing she had enjoyed away from her. It gladdened her that she could once again enjoy her favorite pastime.

"Ugh, fine! I'm getting up."

Jessica sat up on the bed with a smile on her face. After five minutes it turned into a frown. "You're not getting up," she stated dully.

"You're right, I'm not." He gazed at her and pouted. "I don't want to get up. The bed is so nice and warm and comfy. I just can't bring myself to leave it." Musket had finally stopped his yapping, laid down, and went to sleep. All the excitement had worn him out. Greg pointed at the pup. "See! Even Musket agrees with me. Maybe you should lie down, too. You'll like it, I promise."

With her arms crossed over her chest, Jessica sat on the bed and glared down at Greg. He still made no attempt to get out of the bed. That fact started to annoy her. "Greg," she complained in the whiniest tone that she could muster, "you have to get up. Don't leave me to take care of your mother by myself. I won't know what to do."

Taking in her pleading eyes, Greg decided it best that he got up. He was a sucker when it came to her begging. Those eyes of her could get him to do almost anything at the first hint of pleading. "Alright, I'm getting up." He sat up and brought his hand to her face, running his thumb across her lower lip. "Would you like to join me in the shower?"

A small smile played on her lips. "Of course."

Leaning forward, he was about to capture her lips with his, but a knock came loudly from the front door. Musket stood up and started up his high pitch bark. He shot off of the bed and down the stairs. They could hear him the entire time barking and nails clicking against the wooden floors. "Stay here," commanded Greg. "I'll go see who it is and chase them off." Jessica responded by lying on her back, arms under the pillow, and gazing up at him. "You're such a tease," he whispered leaning forward.

"I'm not doing anything," she responded innocently. "I'm just laying here." The act of innocence would have worked if her back had not been slightly arched and a mischievous smirk on her face.

Another loud series of knocks came from the door and Greg growled. He stood up from the bed and headed downstairs in nothing but his blue pajama pants. He loved the color blue. It was the color that the master bedroom was mainly decorated in. Blue covers lay beneath Jessica on top of the bed along with a light shade of blue as the sheets and pillowcases. The curtains that covered the many windows of the room were also some shade of blue. The bed headboard and the dresser were black in color while the nightstands were glass and had metal stands. Blue, black and silver were his colors of choice.

Jessica had allowed him to decorate not only the bedroom but every room in the house. Having only lived in a small crummy apartment with secondhand stuff, she did not have the ability to decorate anything with style. She had even allowed Greg to pick out her wardrobe. The clothes were nice so she did not mind not having an input in them. What she would have picked out would have been far less classy and closer to what her old profession had required her to wear.

Greg stomped down the steps and to the front door, where Musket was barking with his nose buried in the crack of the door trying to sniff out whoever was at the door. Shooing the small dog out of the way gently with his foot, he flung open the door and came face to face with the perpetrator. "Mother!" He was in shock. She was early. She had never been early before. "You're early."

Olivia pushed past him and into the house with James in tow, heavy laden with her luggage. Though she was only staying one night, she had seemingly brought her entire closet with her. It always seemed that she had to take everything with her when she went anywhere. Greg felt sorry for James having to lug around the woman's luggage. He was an older gentlemen and it must be starting to become hard for him though James never seemed to complain. It was his job after all.

"I had to come early," responded Olivia. "I just knew you couldn't wait another moment to see me." James and Greg rolled their eyes simultaneously. The woman was truly the center of her own little universe. Her vanity had been the main reason why Greg was reluctant to invite her to stay. Unfortunately Jessica had talked him into doing the horrid deed; she could be quite persistent when she wanted to be.

Shutting the door against the cold that was seeping through, Greg gave his mother a short tour of the house. He only showed her around the bottom floor and explained that she would be staying in the guest room next to the living room. Olivia was absolutely horrified at how small the room was, but would stay in it none the less for she had no other choice as Greg told her. There was another much larger room next to the master bedroom but he was not about to let his mother be that close to him. Not only did she have a problem with knocking but eavesdropping as well. James, he explained, would be in the room next to her so he could be at her beck and call every minute that she was there. James looked highly annoyed at the prospect, but Olivia was positively delighted.

With his mother distracted Greg took the opportunity to run upstairs. The scuttle of Musket's little paws followed closely behind him. When he entered his room, he shut the door so quickly Musket hardly had time to squeeze in.

"Who was it?" Jessica asked now sitting on the bed staring at him. Her attention was diverted to the small pup when he jumped on the bed and placed himself in the center of her lap. She scratched him behind the ears and Musket's eyes closed enjoying the sensation. A heavy sigh coming from the man caused her to gaze up at him. He was leaning against the door his eyes closed.

"It's my mother," he finally answered.

Jessica's eyes widened in shock. "What?!" Setting the pup off of her lap she climbed off of the bed and went to him. "But she's not supposed to be here for a couple of hours! Why is she here so early?!"

"It doesn't matter. She's here and has already made herself at home. She's setting up her room now. The first thing she did when she saw it was complain about how small it was."

"Small?!" Jessica shouted incredulously. "That room's the same size my apartment was!" Throwing her arms into the air, Jessica made her way to the closest and the search for the perfect outfit ensued.

Walking over to her Greg stopped her expedition by wrapping his arms around her waist. "Don't even bother. No matter what you wear it won't be good enough for her. It never is. It's only good enough if it's hers. She's a very vain person."

"I can at least try."

"It'll only end up in disappointment and I don't want to see you hurt again. My sister did enough damage. I don't want to see that same look in your eyes again. What I do want to see," he started turning so that they faced the bed, "is you in that bed underneath me naked."

Jessica turned a bright shade of red. "But your mother is here," she whispered as if the woman could hear them.

"So. She'll be busy in that room for hours trying to make it to her liking. Just enough time for me to do all the things I want to do to you."

By her waist he lifted her off of the floor and she squealed in delight. He walked to the edge of the bed and tossed her onto it. When her weight fell onto the bed, Musket bounced up and fell back down landing on his back. He stood on all fours seemingly glaring at the two, and then lay back down and went to sleep once again.

Jessica giggled as Greg climbed on top of her. The giggle turned into a moan when he nipped lightly as her neck. He flattened himself on her and tangled his fingers in her hair. Long sharp nails dug into the flesh of his back when his jaw tightened, turning the nip into a bite.

"Gregory," Olivia called as she barged into the room. "What is…" She never finished the rest of the question for she had looked up and spotted the pair on the bed. "Oh, sleeping with the help now?"

Untangling himself from Jessica, Greg stood up his jaw taut with anger. "She's not the help, Mother," he informed her. "This is Jessica, the woman I told you about."

"Oh," Olivia exclaimed. Greg sighed in relief, but it was short lived. The next thing that came out of his mother's mouth as she looked onto the younger woman was just plain insulting. "You mean the whore your sister was telling me about?"

Balling his hands into fist Greg was ready to retort but Jessica beat him to it. "I'm not a whore. Well, not anymore at least. I have your son to thank for that." Her voice was cool with no hint of anger in it though he was sure that she had to be feeling some of the emotion.

Jutting her chin out, Olivia raised her nose in the air and inhaled sharply obviously upset about the fact that Jessica did not lose her cool. "And I'm sure you have thanked him vigorously in the only way a whore can. Now, you can leave and go about your business. I don't need a whore to ruin my image."

Standing up, Jessica placed a sweet smile on her face, though her words were anything but. "I'm not going anywhere, Mrs. Johnson. I care a lot about Greg and don't plan on leaving him. If you don't like it, well then you can suck it." Olivia's mouth was agape in shock. The expression on Greg's face was the same. Never did he expect her to say such a thing. He was gladdened that she finally found the ability to stand up for herself. She had come a long way from the too skinny and timid whore from the Narrows. "I could give a shit less what you think."

"How dare you talk to me in such a way? You're nothing but a piece of filth. Trash. Lower than a piece of shit on my boot heel!"

"I'm a piece of filth?" inquired Jessica pointing to herself. "Why, because I'm not rich like you?" Jessica shook her head. "I've got a newsflash for you, honey. We're all the same on the inside. The rich have needs just like the poorest of us. In my five years of being a whore I have seen many things. The most common was rich men, like you, coming into the Narrows and spending their money on the whores that walk the streets. Most of them have come back begging for the women the give them something their rich snobby wives couldn't. A man left his wife for a piece of filth, as you so elegantly put it. She's now living with him and they couldn't be happier. They even got married and had a couple of kids together.

"I witnessed one of the richest men in Gotham on his _knees_ begging my friend Selina to marry him. And you know what, she refused him. Refused him because she didn't love him. How does it make you feel to know that lowly garbage refused to marry someone just because she was rich? What does that make her? What does that make you, hmm?

"I know all about your kind. The kind of woman that just marries a man for his money. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way that you hold yourself up. Like you're the queen of the world just because you have money. See, to us _whores_," she put much emphasis in the word, "you're trash. You're the filth. You're the one lower than a piece of shit on the bottom of our knee high stiletto boot heels."

After her long speech, Jessica felt a mix of freedom and joy. Finally being able to tell someone the true feeling she had felt being a prostitute that was not fear was a heavy weight off of her chest. It left her feeling much lighter. But calling Greg's mother a piece of trash was not exactly what she had planned to do. Anger had taken over and the words had just tumbled out of her mouth. The brain mouth filter that she had used religiously had turned dirty and no longer worked correctly. Sooner or later she was going to have to clean it out. Deep down, she did not want to.

Now, with the ability to speak her mind, she felt like a free woman. She felt as if she could accomplish anything. Greg's mother was a woman that she had just met and already she had shared harsh words with her. Imagining what it would be like to say such things to the people who had hurt her brought a smile to her face. Sadly she would never be able to tell them off for the fact that she was afraid that they might force her back into the life she had left behind her. That was the last thing that she wanted for herself.

Not being able to come up with a retort, Olivia just stared at the younger woman mouth opened in a large gaping hole. A smile cracked Greg's face. Jessica, of all people, had been the first ever to tell his mother off. All the other women and men in his life had just taken what she had thrown at them and cried about it later. But not Jessica. Oh no, not her. She had taken a stand against the woman. Not only had she taken a stand, but she had pushed back and hard. It had left the woman at a lost for words, a first.

Olivia Johnson always had something to say. It was just the type of woman that she was. Only her opinion mattered and she was going to make damn sure that everyone knew where she stood. She had just met her first challenge. Her first roadblock and it was in the form of a young woman that barely came up to her nose and weighed as much as a medium sized dog. Musket would weigh more than her when he grew into adulthood.

That was slowly changing. Little by little, Jessica was gaining weight. Already her once visible ribs were disappearing as meat started to cover them. Her hips no longer protruded from her body and her spine was hidden behind the flesh as they should be. Even her breast had grown in size as she slowly became healthy. Once, she had complained about the weight gain, but Greg had quickly put her in her place. He had to explain that she was not getting fat but getting healthy. The size she had been was dangerous and could kill her. That prompted her to eat even more. Now, she had a healthy appetite and could stomach more than one meal a day.

Being with Greg was definitely in Jessica's benefit, and she would openly admit it. It was not just his position with money, but he himself. Never did he hit hurt. He always made sure that she ate, even came home from his work at the hospital, he was a nurse, just to make sure that she consumed a meal. The best thing about him was that he made her happy. It seemed to be his main goal to keep a smile on her face. With him she had smiled more in a day than the entire five years that had passed.

What she deemed was his best quality was that she was not afraid of him. Not afraid to make a mistake and feel some sort of repercussion. Sure she still flinched just about every time that he raised his hand to touch her face, but that was not of his doing. A battered woman would always keep the fear of being hit no matter how gentle the new man was. It was incorporated into their brain. To them, there was always a chance of a man hitting them. Always a chance that they would upset him enough to cause him to strike her. Years of abuse left an imprint in their brain and body that pain would forever be there and come.

At first, it had upset Greg that she feared that he would hit hurt. He would never do such a thing. Even the thought was uncanny to him. He had hurt people in the past, many times, but he would not hurt her. She had been hurt too many times before and deserved to be shown that not everyone was out there to offer her only pain. He had promised that he was going to take care of her and he never broke a promise yet. It was his intention never to do so.

Still in shock, Olivia leaves the doorway and travels to her room. It was coming hard for her to think of words let alone speak them. Even when James inquired persistently of what had transpired she could not think of what to say. Nothing formed in her head and she could not comprehend a thing. Never before had someone had the audacity to say such things to her face so bluntly. Jessica was nothing but trash lining the gutters of the streets. A fleck of dirt at the bottom of her shoe. Or so she had thought. Never again would she think that of the young woman. Jessica had proved to the woman that she was worth more than what society had proclaimed her to be. She had her own mind and the mouth to speak it.

Olivia huffed knowing that Stephen was rolling in his grave in laughter an "I told you so," playing on his rotting lips, smiling with his aged yellow teeth. He had always told her that one day she would meet her match, and that she had. When she had first looked upon the girl she had saw nothing but weakness. From her small stature to the blush on her face there was nothing of strength in them. Her timid appearance had made Olivia felt empowered and the older woman had opened her mouth before she had taken the girl fully in.

If only she had paid more attention to those eyes. Grey eyes the color of a stormy sky burning with the intensity of the hidden sun. Those eyes, her fiercest feature, had glared at her with such intensity Olivia had felt the heat radiating off of them as if she were near a forest fire. They had made her heart beat hard against her chest in a fear that she had never experience before. She feared if she had stood there any longer they would have consumed her in their fiery depths. It had not been her lack of speech or shock that had chased her away but those fearsome eyes.

Eyes were mirrors to the soul and she had gazed long into those gray pools. There was something hidden deep within them. A madness that had just barely touched the surface, rippling them. That madness that lurked beneath the surface would be the death to many. Olivia felt that deep in her very bones. Rage was the key to unleashing that madness. Mind consuming rage. As long as the girl was happy, all would be right in the world.

It was best that Greg stayed with the girl. He made her undoubtedly happy. Greg had always had the ability to calm people. His soothing voice and mannerisms gave him that talent. It was not lost on the girl. God help the soul that ever took her away from him or he from her for God would be the only one that could save them.

God help them indeed.


	19. Everywhere Strawberries

With a bored expression on her face, Jessica watched as Greg changed into, yet again, another outfit. It would seem his fourth attempt was his favored one. A dark blue button up long sleeved shirt accompanied with black slacks and black dress shoes. The shirt was made of silk and reflected the light every time that he moved. The fabric of the pants was dull in comparison and the only thing that attracted the eye to his waist line was his leather belt with a gold buckle.

He was dressed to impress whereas Jessica was the opposite. A long black skirt that came to mid calf covered her bottom and a white sweater her top. Her feet were bare unlike his for she was not going out as he was. Greg was heading to a dinner with his mother and sister and their attachments. Jessica would be left alone in the house with no one but Musket to keep her company until later that evening.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" asked Greg for the hundredth time that hour. He was anxious about leaving her alone even if it were for a short time.

Jessica smiled and walked over to him. "I'm positive. It's a family thing and I'm not family. Besides, Selina and Holly are coming over and I can't just abandon them. They're my family. I'll have fun with mine, and you have fun with yours." The truth was that Jessica badly wanted to go with him, but the fact that Holly had decided to come over was a huge thing. She had only ever let that little apartment she shared with her sister twice before. Her willingly coming out just to see Jessica was an honor the girl was not about to pass up.

"I think you'll have a lot more fun than I will. I _am_ going to be stuck in a small building with my Mother after all."

"At least it's not a small room," Jessica told him optimistically.

"Something I'm very thankful for." Taking her into his arms he smiled down at her. "I loved the way that you told her off this morning. No one has ever stood up to her before. They usually just cower in fear or run off crying."

"There's a first for everything. I think she'll think twice before she bad mouths someone again though."

"And that's a good thing. Alright!" Greg exclaimed. "I have to get going now. They're waiting impatiently downstairs for me. I'd ask you how I look but you always say the same thing, even when I'm wearing my scrubs."

"Perfect." In her eyes, no matter what, he was perfect.

With a quick peck on the lips Greg released her and headed downstairs. Jessica followed behind and Musket trotted behind both. "I'll have my cell on me," he explained as they headed down the stairs, "call me if you need anything."

"Don't worry about me. Everything will be fine. Trust me, if anything were to happen, Selina would take care of it. She's a very capable woman. She's taken a lot of crap thrown her way."

When his feet the bottom of the steps he turned around forcing Jessica to stay on the last step. "But what if there are intruders. What would she do then? I think you put too much faith in her."

Jessica could not help but smile at him. "I've seen her take on men three times her size and come out with not a single bruise on her pale skin. She's as agile as a cat and as tough as an ox. There's nothing for you to worry about." Reading had done her a lot of good. No longer did she sound as if she had thrived on the street. A fact that she was rather proud of. She briefly wondered what Selina would think of it. Jessica mentally shook off the thought. She already knew the woman would be happy as long as she was happy.

"I'll take your word for it. I'll be back in a few hours, hopefully sooner." With one last kiss that lasted longer than either of them had planned, Greg and family finally left.

Greg, Erik, Alicia and Olivia, James had family in Gotham and had went to visit them as he did every year, made the short trek to Alicia's silver minivan and they entered it. Alicia had gotten a babysitter so her son was left behind at their home less then a mile away. The men sat in front while the women took the two rear cabin seats. Once they were all settled in, Erik drove off in the direction of the restaurant.

The ride was silent and the quiet was enjoyable to Greg. That was until his sister decided to ruin it. "I don't see what you see in her!" she blurted out.

Greg rolled his hazel eyes knowing who his sister spoke of. "I don't need to explain anything to you. Isn't it enough that I care about her?"

"No, it's not!" stubbornly Alicia replied. "She's a whore! She's probably slept with more men than me and you combined! How can you bring it to yourself to even touch her?"

"Alicia that is enough!" Olivia screamed shocking everyone within the vehicle. Erik had nearly slammed on the brakes from the initial shock. "There is nothing wrong with the girl," she said shocking them even more. Never had Olivia said such a thing about anyone, not even her own children.

"How can you stick up for her?!" Alicia asked the woman that sat next to her.

"Because she reminds me of myself when I was younger," explained Olivia. "I was not the most virtuous of women when I met your father. In fact, I was quite scandalous even after we were married." That was old news. Everyone who was anyone knew that Olivia Johnson had slept around on her husband, even he himself had known. "Besides," she shifted sitting up straighter, "the girl stood up for herself to me. Something not even my own children had ever dared to do. I rather like her."

"You only married Dad for the money," Alicia hissed trying to prove her point.

"There are many differences between her and I and that is two of them. Her and your brother are not married and she seems to care little about the money."

Staring out of the window, Greg spoke, "She hates the money," he informed them in a quiet tone. "She hates when I buy her anything that she considers expensive. Even when I bought her Musket she complained about it though she adores the hell out of that little pup."

"Jessica lived in a world where the price of something determined everything." Erik rarely spoke, but he had deemed then a good time to do so. "The price of something determined if she was going to eat the next day or after. None of you had to deal with such things. You always had money and spent it carelessly. If Jessica had lived that way, she would have died. She would have been considered lucky if someone had even thrown her a scrap of moldy bread." After he had finished his speech, the rest of the ride to the restaurant was back in the silence Greg enjoyed so much.

An hour and a half later they were returning to Greg's house. Dinner had been horrible. Alicia was still pouting about losing the argument in the previous van ride and had not said a word the entire time. Not that Greg cared much; he thought it was for the better. Erik had tried to strike up a conversation only to be shot down. Not a single one of them truly wanted to talk. They all had the same thing in mind. A need to return home, though Olivia would be returning to her son's home and not her own.

The only time they had spoken a sentence was when they were ordering their food which they quickly consumed down. As soon as they were done and Greg paid the bill making sure to leave the waiter a hefty tip they left. Now, they were in the van pulling into Greg's driveway that curved into a roundabout.

A frown crossed Greg's features when they reached the front of the house. Parked in front of it were two vehicles. He had only expected one. The one he had expected was an old two door rust bucket with paint so faded that the original color was lost on the eyes. The other car was much newer and much more expensive. Greg was not a car man but he recognized it as a Rolls-Royce, the signature "RR" hood ornament giving it away.

Once Erik parked the van Greg rushed out in a furry, slamming to door shut behind him. The others followed him into the house only Alicia donning a smug smile. Together they entered the house. Erik was the last in and closed the door behind him. Before any of them could shrug off their coats, a scream came from the kitchen.

The group rushed to the kitchen and stopped dead in the doorway. In the room stood Jessica with two other women, Selina and Holly, an older gentlemen and a man they all recognized as Bruce Wayne. All of them were covered in what appeared to be pink slush as were the walls and countertops of the room. Even the cabinets had not escaped being splashed in pink. The blender lay on the island and it appeared to be where the slush had come from as it had a small portion of the concoction in it. The rest had scattered itself everywhere.

Jessica, who had a measuring cup full of sugar in her right hand, had taken the brunt of the assault and was covered in nearly head to toe in the stuff. Mouth agape she stood stock still until Selina started to laugh at her. Her mouth closed and she glared at the woman. "It's not funny," she stated through gritted teeth. When Selina did not stop laughing, Jessica did the only thing she could think of. She threw the sugar at the woman. "How do you like that?!" Jessica asked triumphantly. The sugar stuck to the pink slush and started to form a sticky substance. Selina's only response to this was another fit of laughter and the others joined in.

"Jessica?" Greg called from the doorway. Jessica turned around quickly. Spotting the man her face fell into that of shame. Taking a step into the room, he slipped on some of the slush but managed to keep his feet. "What the hell happened?"

"I was making strawberry smoothies for me, Selina and Holly," she answered quickly. "After I had everything blended the doorbell rang and I answered it. Mr. Wayne and his butler Alfred were standing there and asked for a cup of sugar. I invited them in because it's cold outside and had them follow me into the kitchen. Selina and Holly came in 'cause I was taking too long and they wanted their smoothies. Isis followed them into here and jumped on the counter and stepped on one of the blender buttons which didn't have a lid on it and we were all covered in strawberry smoothie." By the time she finished talking she was out of breath and just as pink as the smoothie on her face.

As if on queue, what could only be Isis, jumped onto the countertop of the island and proceeded to clean it with her tongue. The cat was black as the shadows with vivid green eyes much like her owner's. Musket was cleaning the floor not having the ability to jump onto any counters. The cat looked up at Greg and stared at him as if daring him not to believe Jessica's story. She had nothing to worry about, he believed it. The story was too unbelievable for him not to. When people lie, they make it creditable and she had made no attempt at doing so. She, also, had plenty of evidence to cover her story. It was all over her, the room, and the occupants, with the exception of Greg and his family.

"I'm so sorry," Jessica started taking a step toward her. She only managed one step before she slipped and fell, landing quite "gracefully" on her butt. "Ow, my ass!" she cried.

Everyone, save Alicia who looked a little bit peeved at being proven wrong, burst into a fit of laughter and Selina went to help her only to slip herself. Being the gentleman he was Bruce tried to stop her fall. Her weight combined with his and his loafers, both fell into a giggling heap on the floor. Holly cracked up, her light blue eyes twinkling, shaking her curly blond head.

The rest of the night was spent with the remainder of the group, Alicia and Erik had to relieve their babysitter from her duty, trying to clean up the mess. The kitchen got cleaned but they were left standing with the smoothie now drying on their skin. Selina, the unfortunate soul, was sticky from head to toe from the sugar smoothie mix. It was caked on her and quickly turning hard. Her and Holly left explaining that she had to get the stuff off of her and Jessica lead them out of the door, followed closely by Bruce and Alfred, who had received their cup of sugar. With one last wave they pulled out of the driveway, laughing at each other.

Once they were out of sight Jessica shut the door and made her way into the living room where Greg was sitting on the sky blue couch. Jessica had failed to realize just how much the house was decorated in the color until Selina had commented on it. The curtains were blue, the blinds were blue, even the rug underneath the glass coffee table was a shade of blue. Even the kitchen was not saved from the sea of blue. Cabinets and countertops were light blue in color, though the countertops had been stained with splotches of pink.

Standing before him her anxiety showed in the form of lip biting. "I'm sorry about the mess I made."

Looking up, he smiled at her, placing his hands on either side of her waist. "Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "It's cleaned up now."

"The cabinets are stained," she pointed out.

"And we can paint over them."

"Do you always look on the brighter side?"

"No," admitted Greg. "When we first pulled up and I saw the extra care, I was not looking on the brighter side. When I heard you scream, my heart stopped and I feared the worst."

Normally his last testament would have been sweet to Jessica, but she was too caught up with the first. Her gray eyes narrowed at the man. Jaw tight with anger she removed his hands. "You thought I was screwing around?" she asked through gritted teeth. When he looked away from her, she got her answer. "I can't believe you would think that."

Pain and anger washed over her. She wanted badly to lash out at the man, but could not. To hurt him would be like hurting a piece of herself. Little did she care about hurting herself, but he was a different matter. Though she had only known him for a short time, she cared for him deeply. He had done so much for her she could feel nothing less. He housed her, clothed her, fed her, and bought her things though she thought them frivolous and unimportant. The only reason why she cherished them was because he had been the one to give them to her. If it had been any but him, she would have long ago tossed them out. The little pup that was now happily lapping at her leg was the only thing he had bought her that she truly cherished.

The doubt that he had worded left a gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to reside. Pain tore at her, clawed at her from the inside out like a hideous beast. It tried its best to free itself but could only manage to escape in the form of tears. So not to show the man her pain, she hastily left the room. He called after her only once and she ignored it making the now long trek to their shared bedroom.

Once in the room she rushed into the conjoined bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she took extra care to lock it. She was overcome with another sea of blue. Blue shower curtain, blue rugs, and even blue tiles on the floor. Sighing she made her way to the bathroom sink to gaze at herself in the mirror. Still covered in strawberry smoothie her appearance was closer to that of a lame swamp monster. The stuff was caked in her hair matting it and that upset her the most. It would take a few washings for it to all come out. Even after she was done she would still smell strawberries for that was the scent of her shampoo and conditioner.

Her hardened red rimmed eyes glared back at her already puffy from the tears she had spilled. Never before had she experienced a pain that harsh. Even the beating she had taken could not compare. She had read in a book once that physical anguish was trivial when compared to that of the heart. It had never crossed her mind to believe it until then. She had experienced heartache before, but none even came close to what she was now feeling. Even the abandonment of her mother was nothing next to what she was feeling now.

Greg had honestly thought that she would betray him as had his sister. She had seen the smug smirk on Alicia's face when the woman had first came into the kitchen, and how upset she was to be proven wrong once again. Jessica was starting to dislike the woman more and more with each passing day. Alicia going to the dinner had been the reasoning behind Jessica not attending. She did not want to deal with the woman.

"Don't worry about her," her reflection called to her. "She's not important." Jessica gazed away from the mirror not wanting to deal with the inner workings of her mind at that moment. She busied herself with getting ready for a shower. It would be a long one considering the goop that was mangled in her hair.

While Jessica was in the shower, washing her hair with a furry, Greg was downstairs contemplating on what he had said to the younger woman. It was wrong of him to doubt her and he knew that. He fully trusted her and knew that she would not betray him, but there was always that lingering doubt. It came to him while he was away at work and she was home by herself and any other time that she was not by his side. A doubt that Michelle had placed within him.

That woman had made it easy for him to believe that anyone was capable of cheating. He had never thought it of her, though there were many signs, until the day that she had flat out told him. Even then he did not believe it, just thinking it was another way for her to refuse to marry him. It was not until he confronted his friend that he got the confirmation that he needed. Starting out as a nice boy's night out and ending up in the emergency room of a hospital for both of them. Greg had received the lesser of the beating, but would forever have the scar of a beer bottle slicing into his skin where as his friend would not have any physical remnants of the fight, just the memory of the beating of a lifetime.

Musket sat on the floor between Greg's feet staring up at the man. The little pup, feeling the tension radiating off of the man, knew that Greg was upset. He could not understand as to why he was, Musket did not understand the minds of those that took care of them. What he did know was that the man before him was upset and all he wanted to do was comfort him. To catch Greg's attention, the little pup pawed at his pants.

Not even being able to muster a smile at the dog's attempt to earn his attention, Greg reached down and picked him up scratching him behind the ears. The velvet tongue of the pup licked his chin and he let out a small whimper. "I fucked up royally, didn't I boy?" Greg asked the pup. As if to confirm his fears Musket growled lightly.

"Yes, you did," came the voice of his mother startling the man. She was standing, adorned in a light pink bathrobe, in the doorway of her room, arms folded across her chest and a hardened look upon her face.

"You heard?"

"Of course I did! Sound travels very well in a big house like this, though it is smaller than mine."

Greg rolled his eyes. "It's not always about you, Mother."

"I know that, but I would like to believe so. Makes me feel more important than I really am." Her feet bare she walked to him on the cold wooden floor and sat next to him on the couch. "I know I have not been the greatest of mothers or wife and seem only to care about myself. Despite what all of you think, I do care about you. Despite all the infidelity, I still cared for your father. Hell, I might have even loved him if I did not love myself more. Though I hid my emotions considerably well, I know what pain feels like and you hurt that poor girl."

"What should I do?" Taking advice from his mother was a strange concept to him. Never once in his life had he ever asked her for help. He had always believed that if it was not about her, she did not care. Maybe he had been wrong for all of those years. Maybe Olivia Johnson really did give a shit about her children.

"Apologize of course. It's the only thing you can do."

"But how? I can't buy her things, it'll just upset her more. She hates when I buy her things."

Olivia smiled at her young naïve son. "There is only one way for a man to truly apologize to a woman. Grovel. Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You don't have to literally get on your knees, that would just be pathetic, but you get the point." With what she had to say being said, she left her son on his own to contemplate. In her heart she knew that he would do the right thing, Greg always did. He was the best of them, the Johnson family, though he had inherited his father's small lust for blood and pain. That was no matter, he had virtually stopped doing so once he had dropped out of medical school and the temptation was gone.

Wasting no time, Greg headed up the stairs as soon as his mother's door shut closed behind her. With Musket in his arms, still tirelessly licking his chin, Greg made the short trek up the silent wooden steps. Once in the room he heard the tell tale signs of running water and inferred that Jessica was taking a shower. She had needed one after being covered in her own beloved concoction.

Strawberries seemed to be Jessica's choice food. Every chance that she got she was consuming a handful of them. Not only were they her favorite treat, but her favorite scent as well. Everything that she owned that had a scent was of strawberries. It would seem that she could never grow sick of them.

Settling himself on the edge of the bed, Greg waited for her to get out of the shower. He released Musket who instantly took a spot at the head of the bed. Making a few circles before he lay down, the pup soon was comfortable enough to curl up into a ball and fall into a deep slumber. His small chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern though sometimes one breath would be deeper than the rest. Turning from the dog, Greg looked to the door of the bathroom. The water had shut off and soon Jessica would be exiting the attached room.

Several minutes later the door of the bathroom opened and Jessica stepped out clad only in a midnight blue towel. Her normally dark brown hair was now black with the water it was soaked with. It clung to her face in an unruly fashion though it was evident that she ran a comb through it. There was no blow dryer or any hair products besides shampoo and conditioner in the house. Neither of them used them. Jessica failed to for the reason that her hair was straight and no matter how she styled it, it would seem to fall back in place. Greg because he just did not want to.

"Jessica, I-" he started, but she quickly cut him off.

"No. Don't apologize. Apologies mean nothing. Words mean nothing. You can say something and not mean it. I don't trust apologies."

"But I do mean it," he stated quietly, standing up and walking to her. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, he gazed down into her storm gray eyes. "I mean every word that I say to you. I _am_ sorry. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. It will never happen again."

"You say that, but it will happen again."

Frustrated Greg took a step back. "Do you have to be so cynical about everything?" he asked harshly.

"I'm not cynical," she answered plainly, "I'm a realist."

He was upset, that much she could tell. A fear was rising inside of her. When people were upset, they hit her. So imprinted on her brain that was that when he raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair she flinched. "Why do you do that?" he nearly screamed at her. "I've never hit you. I wouldn't hit you. No matter how many times that I try proving it to you, you still flinch every time I raise my hands to do anything. Why?"

"I don't know," she lied. She knew very well why she did it. There would always be the fear of being hit.

"You're a terrible liar," he informed her kicking off his shoes. "I'm going to bed." Walking to his side of the bed, he started to strip himself. "Musket go to your bed," he commanded the sleeping pup. The dog woke up and obeyed the order, climbing into his own bed at the foot of theirs on the floor.

Deciding it was best, Jessica joined him on the bed dropping her towel on the floor. She would retrieve it in the morning, at that moment, she was worried more about sleep. It had been a very long day. Though she had not done much, she was exhausted. Slowly and carefully she crawled underneath the cover as if not to wake the man lying on it though he was not asleep. She was more fearful of upsetting him more than he already was.

"Will you ever forgive me for doubting you?" he asked her, his back to her.

She took the time to think about it and only reached one conclusion. "I already have."

Rolling over and reaching out to her he pulled her to him by the waist. Her head lay in the crook of his arm her back flush against his torso. "Good. I just have one question."

"What?"

"Why didn't you turn off the lights?" She could feel his smirk that was placed on his face.

"Fuck the lights," she muttered.

"No, I don't think I will. It's sounds very uncomfortable. But you, on the other hand, are a completely different story." Using his arm as leverage, he turned her head so that she was facing him and planted his lips on top of hers. With the position that she was laying in, she tried her best to deepen the kiss. With a suddenness, Greg pulled away. "Good night," he whispered in her ear.

Mouth agape Jessica stared at the man. He had just stopped. "What the hell?" she asked bewildered. "Why did you stop?"

"A few reasons. One, I have to work early in the morning. Two, my mother is here."

"So."

"My mother has a nasty habit of eavesdropping. I'm, also, pretty sure that if she doesn't like what she's hearing, she'll come up here and command me on how to do it. 'Not there, there,'" he stated in a mimic of his mother's voice and he was doing a very good job at it. " 'You silly boy, can't you listen to a word I say! I might as well do it myself! Move over so I can show you how it's done.'"

Jessica burst into a fit of laughter so harsh that the bed shook. The sound of her laughter still gave Greg the chills. He would never tire of hearing it. It had somehow became his duty, or so he felt, to make the young woman laugh as much as possible. So far, he was doing a pretty damn good job at it.

"I love your laugh," he admitted when her laughter died down smiling.

"I love your smile and your voice," responded she fully rolling over to face him.

"You're not the first person to tell me that."

"You're the first to tell me," she established.

"And why's that? With that laugh, I would think people would be admiring it all the time."

Having limited mobility Jessica gave him a half shrug. "I never had a reason to laugh before. Before I met you, I hadn't laughed in years." Her eyes started to slowly drift closed. She was more tired than she had expected. "I'm tired, Doc," she said in a barely audible whisper.

Planting a light kiss on her forehead he told her, "Then go to sleep." She nodded curling up closer into his chest. Her wet hair clung to his arm and her face in small separate strands. Both of her hands lay flat on his chest and her legs were entwined in his. That was the first time in a while that she had fallen asleep before him. He knew that for the fact that she would wake him up in the middle of the night complaining about how she couldn't sleep and she was jealous of his ability to find sleep almost instantly. Soon after the conversation was over, he would be back to sleep only to have her wake him up once again.

Her falling asleep before him was a strange notion to him. Of course, he had known why. The night before she had stayed up later than usual, having a harder time to fall asleep. Stress and worry about his mother staying had caused a near sleepless night. He had awaken every time that she had left the bed to check on some minuscule detail she thought she had forgotten. The tiny pattering of Musket tirelessly following her echoed across the house. After waking for the dozenth time, she had given up on a fitful rest and left the bed for good. Being exhausted, Musket had stayed sleeping in his bed.

The entire day she had looked exhausted, but tried to hide it behind a bright smile. It had worked on the others but not him. He had tried many times that day to get her to take a short nap, but she had refused multiple times stating that she was "just fine." After a few hours of pestering her he had finally given up. Now, she was asleep and showed no signs of waking. A blessing for him for he had something to take care of that particular evening. Something he did not want her to know about. More like a someone he needed to talk to.

After gently slipping his arm from underneath her, he clambered out of the bed and got dressed as quiet as possible. As he snuck out of the room, making sure to switch off the lights as he left, Musket tried to follow but he ordered the pup to stay. He reluctantly obeyed watching the man walk out of the bedroom door with sad brown eyes.

Walking down the noiseless steps, he made his way into the kitchen, and grabbing his keys proceeded into the conjoined garage where is car awaited him. From there he was going to go and have a talk with a drunken bastard that he did not know. Still having many connections on the streets he had heard many things. There was just one in particular that he did not like. Jessica's father was searching for her and apparently he was getting closer and closer. Greg wanted him to stop his search and leave the girl alone.

Having finally found where the man lived, he was going to talk to him about it. Maybe even pay him off. Greg did not know if would work, but it was worth a shot. One must try for him to fail or succeed. Greg prayed for success.


	20. Christmas

The annoying sound of the alarm clock from the nightstand, awoke Jessica from her peaceful slumber. Though she hated the noise with a passion she refused to leave her spot on the bed and turn it off. She was just too warm and comfortable to move. The bed shifted as Greg rolled on top of her and switched the cursed thing off. A blissful silence filled the room and the room seemed stilled by it. Even Greg dared not move from his new position on top of her, leaning heavily on his elbows. The only noise in the room was the light breathing of the still sleeping pup on the floor.

"Merry Christmas," Greg whispered from above her.

She smiled sweetly. "And a Merry Christmas to you, too. What time is it?" she asked scrunching up her face.

"Seven in the morning."

"I thought you had to work early?"

"I did. Someone called an hour before my shift and asked me to switch them, so I did. I'll be going in at one."

She nodded in acceptance. It was something that she was used to. Him switching shifts seemed to happen a lot, usually ending in an inconvenience for him, but he never seemed to mind. Work was just a joke to him and she knew that. He did not have to work if he so chose not to. Work was just something that he liked to do or so he told her.

It did not bother her that he was working. What bothered her was the loneliness she felt when he was gone. When he left she was left all alone with no one but a puppy to keep her company. Not having anything else to do she usually cleaned the house which seemed never to really get dirty. After she was finished, Jessica was left with nothing else to do but read. Once she had tried to watch television but found it boring without Greg's commentary.

The days he had off, which were few and far between, were her favorites. They were filled with laughter and a joy she had never felt before. Those days were nothing but watching him act out scenes from the television that were of his own making and him telling her funny stories of mishaps that had happened at the hospital. Not knowing if they were true or not, some seemed too ridiculous to be true, she still laughed at them. One day she would have to work up the nerve to visit him at work and see first hand.

Leaning down Greg captured her lips with his. She eagerly deepened the kiss entangling her fingers in his hair on the back of his head. A low rumbled growl came from his throat as her fingers tightened their grip in his hair her long nails lightly scraping his scalp. Breaking the kiss he removed her hand from his hair by her wrist and placed it above her head along with the other one. Transferring her wrist to where he held them in one hand, he returned his lips to hers. She whimpered in the kiss as his free hand traveled down her body until he reached her hip which he gave a tight almost painful squeeze.

His lips moved from her own to her neck, biting and sucking on it. The hand that held her hip left it, leaving a warm spot on her skin, and her nails dug into her palms knowing what was coming next. Pain flashed through her body as he entered her and she felt beads of sweat forming a slimy layer on top of her skin. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out.

Normally he waited for her to adjust to his size before he started to move, but that morning he was more eager than most and he started instantly. Not that Jessica minded, she enjoyed the pain and had begged him many times to do so. That morning he had decided to give her what she wanted.

As he thrust in and out of her, he released the grip he had on her tiny, now bruised, wrist and slid it underneath her hand. With her hands now free she clawed at his back. This caused him to pull her hair and her back arched. Her arched back allowed his free arm to wrap around it and slid her down deepening each thrust.

She reached her peak and dug her nails deeper into his back cutting the flesh leaving crescent moon shaped cuts on his back. Knowing that he was not finished and fearing to cause further damage, Jessica removed her nails from his back and reached up above her and gripped her pillow tightly.

With one last deep thrust, he climaxed inside of her. Tears were spilling forth from her eyes and his heart sank. Fearing the worst he pulled out of her and lay next to her, cradling her against his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again.

Jessica sniffled. "Don't be," she told him. "You didn't hurt me. Just don't do that again. I don't think that I can handle something that good again." Chuckling Greg kissed her forehead. "Ugh, I need a shower. I'm covered in sweat."

"Then go take a shower."

"I don't think I can get up," she admitted. Greg burst into laughter and offered to help her.

An hour later she was sitting on the blue couch in the living room with Musket's head in her lap, stroking it gently. The television was on but she paid it no heed. Instead she stared out of the window watching the flakes of snow fall slowly to the ground. Their graceful and purposed filled movements reminded her of Selina. She wondered what the woman was doing at that moment. No doubt her and Holly were up celebrating Christmas with Croc.

At the thought of the man, Jessica's heart sank. The night before Selina had verbally attacked her for leaving the man without a word as to why. In her anger, the woman had called her many harsh things that she later regretted when Jessica told her what had happened. Holly had just looked at them with interest in her brown eyes. Holly and Selina were not true sisters or blood related in any way. Selina had found Holly on the streets and had decided to take care of her. They had formed a quick bond and quickly fell into calling each other sisters. Selina had badly wanted to take Jessica in as well but the women had been told if they helped the girl that they would be punished with the penalty of being strapped up and beaten.

No one was to help the girl. That was until Croc had asked to move in with her. If it had been any other man, they would have refused, but no one refuses Croc. Even the bosses were frightened of the man. His reputation of killing those that upset him left them with no other choice but to give him what he wanted. It made life easier for Jessica but not for them. It had become harder for them to punish the girl with Croc backing her. It, also, had made the others more brave with their attempts to protect and help her.

After all he had done for her, Jessica had left Croc without a word and heartbroken. She knew that Selina would relay her message of apology to the man. Hearing that she was safe would gladden the man, but Selina would not leave the part out of her being with another man. Though it would tear his already broken heart to shreds, Selina would not be able to lie to the man. Jessica respected and hated that about the woman. Already had she broken his heart once, why would she want to do anymore damage?

Her view of the window was blocked by Greg's body. "You're crying," dully he stated to her.

"Am I?" Reaching up to her face with her left hand, the other occupied with petting Musket, she touched her cheeks. They were moist with the silent tears that she had not known that she was shedding. "I guess I am."

Flopping down on the couch next to her, Greg wrapped a comforting arm around her small shoulders. "Why?"

Jessica sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder, and told him what had transpired the night before. Normally she had the ability to keep her mouth shut about such things, but found it lost on that man. She told him everything though she did not want to. For some reason or another, she felt as if she could not lie to the man.

"I see," he commented after she was finish. "So, when do I get to meet him?"

Jessica stared at him incredulously. "What?!" she exclaimed. "Why would you want to meet him?"

"I would like to meet all of your old boyfriends and he seems to be the only one." He leaned his head against her and continued to speak. "I would let you meet all of my old boyfriends and girlfriends, but most of them are bitter and far away. One I don't ever want to see again."

"But why?"

"For you, I want you to see how much better you are than them. And me, I just want to size him up. I've heard many things on the street about the Killer Croc and I would like to see him first hand. I want to know if he lives up to my expectations or not."

Jessica could not help but laugh at the man. "Size him up?" she managed trying to catch her breath. "Oh, Honey, that man could beat you to a grease spot on the floor. His fist are the size of my head."

"Really? That big?" Greg teased. Jessica frowned.

"My head isn't big."

A playful smile crossed Greg's features. "No, it isn't," he conceded. "It's perfect, but for fist to be that size, it is pretty daunting. Now, I have to meet him. Come on!" He pulled her up from the couch. "We're going to the Narrows." At his proclamation, Jessica felt a twinge of fear. Instead of moving like he wanted her to, she stood stock still. Seeing the girl was not going to move Greg sighed. "I know you don't want to go back there and I know the reason why, but I'll be with you. You don't have anything to worry about. I won't let them take you back."

Trusting him more than most, Jessica gave in against her better judgment. "Wait!" called Greg. She stopped and turned to him. "I have something to give you before we go." He left her standing in the doorway of the kitchen, shifting from one foot to the other in impatience. He was not gone long and when he came back he had a gray box in his hand, a dark blue bow tied around it. "Merry Christmas," he said to her as he handed her the box. Taking it into her hand, it was heavier than she expected, and she stared at it, seemingly not know what to do. "Open it!" urged Greg.

With hands shaking Jessica did as she was told. Pulling on the edge of the ribbon she undid the bow and then opened the box. Inside was another box of a lighter shade of gray. Tilting the box upside down she forced the other slightly smaller one out. It took some effort for it had been a tight fit. Once the box plopped into her hand, she handed the two halves of the other to Greg. Dreading what the contents of the box in her hands were, she reluctantly opened it.

Inside, much to her surprise, was just a plain golden necklace. She had expected something more along the lines of diamond covered, but not a single jewel was spotted on the thing. Just a golden heart, the center open, with a thin gold chain stringed through the opening. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas," she declared still staring down at the necklace.

Sighing, Greg took the box from her hands. After retrieving the necklace from its container he clasped it around her neck. "Don't worry about getting me anything," he reassured her. Gripping the back of her neck lightly, he forced her to look up at him. "I already got what I need." A blush tinted Jessica's cheeks a light pink hue that stood out against her pale skin. He leaned in and gave her a peck on top of her lips. "You're cute when you blush." This statement only made the blush deepen. "Now, let's go before it gets too late."

"It's only nine, the club doesn't open until ten."

"The Narrows is on the other side of town so it'll take you a while to get there. And I get realized that neither one of use have socks on or a coat. That'll take a little more time."

Forty five minutes later they were in the car headed toward _Jaded_. The reasoning behind their late departure was Jessica had decided that she needed to change into something more simple. Now clad in a pair of faded flared blue jeans that clung to her hips, a plain black sweater and white tennis shoes, she felt ready to face her old life. She was still a little uncomfortable though he clothes were plain, they were still designer and everyone would pick up on that fact. Both had decided against coats considering they would be inside most of the time.

"I don't understand why we couldn't just take the bus," Jessica announced.

"Buses don't go to the Narrows," Greg told her. "I don't know why you're so worried about it."

Rolling her eyes, Jessica explained to why she was worried. "Greg, this is a nice car and we're going to the poorest part of town. Do you know how long it takes six people to strip a car like this?"

"No."

"Depending on the make and model, under a minute. They've had a lot of practice. I watched a group of four strip a Ferrari. It only took them forty-five seconds."

"How would you know that?"

"Selina timed them. It was a bet. She bet them two bills they couldn't do it in less than a minutes and they won."

"I bet she was pissed."

"Not really," answered Jessica shrugging her shoulders. "She already made a few grand that night."

Mouth agape, Greg took his eyes off of the road for just a moment. Seeing that, Jessica gripped the armrest on the door tightly. "If she makes that much, why does she still live in the Narrows?"

"Cuts. The mob gets fifty percent of the earnings and then the pimps get twenty-five. By the time all is said and done we're left with enough to feed ourselves and pay rent," she explained. "Could you pay attention to the road, please?" Her tone was panicky and rose in pitch at the end.

He did as she asked and she relaxed slightly. "What about you?"

"I had to give the mob seventy-five. Mike took his twenty-five, Andy took the rest of what I made, and Bob refused to take anything from me. To make things fair, the pimps would switch every two weeks. Some weeks I went hungry and others I didn't. I was lucky enough that Bob was my landlord and would waiver my rent if it was due when it was Andy's turn."

"I don't like this Andy character. I think if I meet him, I'll have to hurt him."

"You might get the chance. He's normally at _Jaded_. Be careful around him. He's deceiving and stronger than he looks. Only Croc has been the one to defeat him in a fight."

"Hm, a challenge. I like it."

The statement earned him another roll of the eyes from Jessica. Men. She did not know why she even bothered. If it was not for the fact that most women repulsed her she would have turned gay long ago. Just the thought of touching some of them made her gag. Not to mention the fact that women were far too bitchy for her taste. Men were no different, but they seemed to be more subtle about it.

Buildings flew by as Jessica stared out of the window. Slowly the scenery started to turn for the worse. Tall buildings with very clean windows that reflected the gray sky turned to shorter ones that did not look as lavish as their predecessors. Those shorter and plainer buildings soon turned to even smaller and plainer ones. As they approached closer to the Narrows, windows in building were broken out and there were large cracks in the mortar. Trash covered the streets and rats were appeared out of the sewers and scuttled in the gutters.

Most would have shied away from the sight of such depravity, but Jessica welcomed it. That disgusting hole of a place had once been her home not that long ago. It felt good going back there, though she was frightened as hell about what was to come. Not only would she be facing old friends she had abandoned, but and old lover and some enemies. Facing Croc was the most frightening thing of all.

Many questions ran through her head at the thought of the man. Would he hate her? Did he still love her? How would he react toward Greg? And many many more. As Greg pulled up to the side of the building and parked, she forced the whirlpool of questions from her mind. She was about to find out the answers to all of them in a matter of moments.

"Hey!" Greg called to a guy walking down the sidewalk. The man stopped and looked to him. "Come here!" Jogging, the man did as he was told. Once the man was in front of him, Greg smiled his million dollar smile. Apparently Jessica was not the only one effected by it. "I'll give you two bills if you watch my car." Jessica's jaw dropped. To hear that was an ample sum of money just to watch a car.

"Okay," the man eager replied holding out his filthy hand greedily. Greg pulled out a wad of twenties and counted out five of them and placed it in the filthy hand that had been offered to him. "What the hell?!" the man exclaimed. "You told me two hundred."

Greg shook his head. "Do you take me for an idiot. You'll get the other half when we get back." With a gesture of his hand, he commanded Jessica to come to his side. When she did, he instantly wrapped a protective arms around her shoulders. "If I come back and my car even had one scratch on it I'll cut off your balls and feed them to my little Akita."

The man scoffed. Threats of that nature were plentiful to him. "Or," Jessica started, "you could always make him eat them." She indicated toward the man.

"I like that idea better." He smiled down at her. He turned back to the man to continue the conversation. "You look hungry enough to eat them. I bet they'll be the biggest meal that you've eaten in a while." Jessica witnessed the man's Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulped. "I'm sure we have an understanding." Just as his Adam's apple had done, the man's head bobbed up and down in confirmation. "Good. We'll be back later."

Arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder, Greg led her around the building and to the entrance. No one was standing guard which was normal. Most of the happening were on the inside and no one really cared who came in. The place was owned by the mob and the cops would not touch it. The last one to investigate the place had ended up at the bottom of the docks with a cinder block attached to his feet. Whoever said old methods weren't the best hadn't ever been involved with the mob.

Already Jessica could feel the bass pumping from the building and it was made worse when they entered. To her surprise, the place was packed. All the seats were taken and there were people standing in the back leaning against the wall. When the song ended Jessica and Greg made their way up to the bar.

"I can't believe you ditched work for this," she complained to him.

Greg just shrugged. "They said that they didn't need me anyways. There was too many people scheduled. I was the only one to call off so they just gave me the day off. I thought you'd be happy. It's rare we get a whole day to spend with each other."

"Yes, it is, but I never planned to spend a day at a strip club with you."

Cheers erupted throughout the place and Jessica turned to see who was coming on stage. It was none other than Harley Quinn. She wore a red string bikini top and black bottoms. Six inch platform stilettos adorned her feet. The right one was red and the left one was red. Her long blond hair was down and swayed with her motions. When she turned to walk to the bar at the far end of the stage, Jessica spotted the signature silver diamonds on the back of her bottoms. There were four in total close together forming a larger but broken diamond.

"Who's that?" inquired Greg in her ear.

"Harley Quinn," she responded in his. "She's the best stripper they got here."

"Why do they call her Harley Quinn?"

"Because she mute. The idiots that gave her the nickname were thinking of a mine but somehow came up with a harlequin. I'm shocked they could even come up with a word that has more than one syllable." Greg chuckled.

The smile quickly fell from Greg's face and he pushed Jessica slightly behind him. Confused, she glanced around to see why he would react in that manner. Spotting the reason, Jessica frowned. A man was sauntering to them with a malicious look upon his face. Normally both of them would overlook such a thing, but the fact that the man was missing all of his fingers on one hand sent alarms ringing through their heads.

Bellows. Somehow the man had man had survived Joker's assault against his fingers. Jessica could have sworn the man had chopped off all of his fingers, but it would seem she had been mistaken. Those times were filled with confusion and it would have been easy for her to think one thing and another happen.

"Well, lookie what we have here!" he shouted over the music. "The faggot and the whore." He spat at their feet as if just speaking to them left a bad taste in his mouth. Greg's eyes narrowed dangerously at the man. He did not say a word but let the man continue. "I lost my fingers because of you," he proclaimed pointing with his only index finger at Jessica. "I want you to pay for that."

"You'll have to get through me first," informed Greg.

"Hey!" a female voice shouted over the music. Jessica recognized it as Selina's. "Why don't ya go back to ya seat and leave them the fuck alone!"

The shouts of the woman attracted more attention then Jessica felt comfortable with. It seemed all eyes were on them instead of on Harley twirling around the bar. Creeping closer to Greg, Jessica tightly gripped his long sleeved button up black shirt. Sensing her unease, he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

Bellows reeled on Selina who now stood a foot from him. "Why should I listen to you, cunt!"

Selina's eye twitched in annoyance, but Jessica was the first to react. "Don't call her that you prick!" Her screamed echoed across the bar. The music had been turned off and now all eyes were really on them.

"Ooh, and what's the whore going to do about it? Joker's not here to protect you."

The wind chime laughter of Jessica's filled the bar. The sweetness was gone from it and replaced with a hint of madness causing most to shy away from her. Bellow, being the man he was, was not going to be intimidated by a woman half his size.

As abruptly as it started, it stopped. A hardened look was on her face when she looked back to the man. "You really _think_ I need him to protect me?"

"Oh no, that's right, you got the faggot," he pointed to Greg, "to protect you now."

With a quickness she never realized that she was capable of she gripped Bellows' wrist tightly in her hand. Though her hand could barely wrap around it that did not stop her from somehow holding it in place though he tried to pull away. "Call him that again and I'll rip your tongue out."

"With what? You ain't got no weapons."

Shaking her head, Jessica giggled madly. "Silly rabbit, with my hands." She released his wrist and was proud to see a red handprint upon it. "By the way, it's 'You haven't got any weapons.' Learn to speak correctly, it makes you sound like an idiot. Well, an idiot would be a step up from what you are. Now, leave and take your friends with you." She indicated to the men that were now standing behind Bellows as if to back him up.

"And if we don't go? I'm sure you three can't take all of us." He had grouped Selina, who had a bewildered expression on her face, in with the couple.

"It's not us you're going to have to worry about," she said matter-of-factly. "It's him." She pointed behind them. The five men turned and came face to face with Croc who loomed over them. "Now, be good little bunny rabbits and run away."

Bellows accomplices made to leave but when the man himself did not move, the quickly changed their minds. He tried his best to stare down Jessica, but she was not going to have it. She just stared back up with him, arm folded across her chest. The necklace Greg had given her dug into the fabric of the sweater. Never taking his eyes off of him for a moment, not even to blink, her foot moved up and down slowly hitting the ground with a soft _thump_.

The tapping stopped. "What are you waiting for?" she asked the man darkly unfolding her arms from her chest. Taking a step toward him, she spoke, "I know that you want to hit me. I can see that much in your beady brown eyes. Why don't you, huh?" A sarcastic smile formed on her lips. "Oh, I know!" She clapped her hands together. "You're waiting for me to turn around. You won't attack me unless my back is turned, isn't that right?" The smile disappeared from her face like it never existed. "Just like you crept into my room that night after Joker left. Waited until I was asleep. I should rip your throat out for that." Her tone was harsh and biting, making Selina flinch. That was the first time she had witnessed the girl's anger. She almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

"I'm not afraid of you," Bellows stated in bravado.

"The bravado is a nice touch, but it doesn't suit you. I know you're not brave. You proved that much when you opened the door and Joker was standing there. 'Oh, please, Boss,'" she started in her best imitation of him. 'I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Please don't kill me. I'm drunk and she offered it to me. She's a whore. It won't happen again.'" Her mockery of him ended. "Pretty pathetic if you ask me."

When he pulled out the knife that she had known was in his pocket, Jessica did not flinch. Nor did she when it was coming at her. She just watched as it moved closer and closer to her with vague interest. For once she was not afraid. Her heart did not race as she expected it to. Her breathing did not quicken. Sweat did not bead her brow. Not a single symptom of fear formed itself in her body. No explanation as to why formed in her head. She just stood there transfixed as the blade neared her.

It never reached her. Greg stopped the man in mid motion grabbing the man's hand. His fingers wrapped around Bellows' thumb palm flat against the back of his hands, Greg pulled sharply back. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter and a loud snap echoed across the silent room followed closely by a scream.

"Bad move, Bellows, _very_ bad move," Greg gratingly told the man.

"What's going on here!" a voice cut across the room.

Jessica stiffened at the recognition of the voice. Deep, commanding, and always with a bite of anger in it. Her heart raced, sweat formed on her brow, and her breathing quickened. The effects of fear barreled over her and sunk in deep. That was the voice of the one man she hoped they would not encountered with their surprise visit. The one man that could strike such intense and overwhelming fear into her.

Andy had finally appeared.

**Author's Note:**

So, here's a new chapter. I just wanted to take the time to thank all those that have reviewed my story. It is very appreciated. If anyone has any suggestions just go ahead and post them. Each and every single on of them will be taken into consideration of the upmost value. I know Joker has not been in the story for a while. I wanted to inform you all that he will be coming back in it soon. So, don't worry, he will be back in it. I already have up to chapter 25 written so I should know that. XD Any who, just review and all that good stuff. Thank you for reading!


	21. Dealers Cheat

Mind numbing fear paralyzed Jessica. She stood unmoving, with breath coming in short sharp intakes and releases, borderline hyperventilating. Only her eyes seemed to have the ability to move and they searched out the comfort of Greg's face. When she found it, concern flashed across his features and as quickly as it was there, it was gone. It was replaced by a mask of emotionless so complete that even his bright hazel eyes were blank and desolate. Jessica tried to imitate that mask but was unable. No matter how hard she tried her trepidation showed.

A warm comforting arm crossed her shoulders and pulled her close to an equally warm and comforting body. Glancing up, Harley's face came into view. The older woman gave the girl a reassuring smile as she covertly led her backward toward Selina and Croc, who had changed his position when Andy entered the room. The scantly clad woman wrapped her free arm around Jessica's waist and pulled her close enough that he head was forced to lay upon her chest. Though her exterior was that of pure calm, Jessica could not help but hear the quick racing of Harley's heart and the small tremors in her body.

Good old Harley, always trying to lend a helping hand. The woman was like the mother Jessica never had, albeit she was too young to actually be her mother. Harley had seen it as her duty to protect the younger and weaker girl, leaving Jessica to feel a pang of guilt. Jessica had left without a word, never looking back, but it appeared that the woman would not abandon her and held no ill will toward the girl. Bob had told Mike what had transpired, and Mike, not having the ability to keep anything from the woman, had told her. She understood why the girl had left. Would have done so if she had been in the same position as Jessica, she could not condemn the girl.

Seeing as the situation bode trouble, the patrons of the bar started to file out of the room one by one at a leisurely pace. Some hoped to see a snippet of what was to transpire, but did not want to be involved in such doings. Their eyes never left the scene before them as they walked out of the door much like the passer bys of an automobile accident on the highway. Curiosity and fascination of bloodshed had been the undoing of many a men and none of them wanted to feel the repercussions that would be offered to them.

With deliberately slow steps, Andy walked to the group. A malicious smirk appeared on his face when he spotted Jessica and she shivered involuntarily. "So," he started, walking toward her, "you decided to come back." With a gesture of his hand, he ordered Harley to away from Jessica. Much to the girl's surprise, she left. Confusion and horror swept across Jessica. Never once had Harley obeyed the man, why had she chosen to do so then? "I knew you'd come back," he informed her. "Just couldn't get enough of me, could ya?"

"Not even in your sickest dreams would I come back here for _you_." With the heat of anger licking at her core, Jessica felt the fear dampen. Her hands were still held small tremors as she folded them across her chest. Oh, how much she wanted to rip that cocky smirk right off of his face. "There would only be one reason why I would come back and see you."

"And what is that?" he asked sure of himself.

Sweet and innocent were her smile and voice. "To drive a rusty knife through your heart and give it a little twist."

"Hm, I would think you'd want to stab me in the back."

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I don't stab people in the back, that's your job."

The smirk fell from Andy's face but was quickly replaced by another one. "Then, what do you consider what you did to poor Croc behind you?"

Jessica shifted uncomfortably. He had her there. Not only had she stabbed Croc in the back, but ripped his heart out and stomped on the bleeding thing right before his eyes. Jessica straightened. "You're right," she openly admitted. "I did stab him in the back, but I had my reasons. You just stab people in the back because you're a coward and can't man up to anything. The same reason why you prey on weak women. They can't stand up to you so you use and abuse them. Does it make you feel powerful? Does it make you feel more like a man?" Anger boiled over her making her braver than she had ever been toward the man and she stepped closer to him. "I have news for you, _Andy_; you'll never truly be a man. You're nothing but a sick pervert and a rapist. One day all that you've done will come back and bite you on the ass. I just pray that I'm there to see it."

Andy's normally cold eyes hardened to that of steel. "I did nothing of the sort!" he hissed at her. "You came willingly every time."

"So willing, I kicked and screamed the whole way."

A hard backhand and Jessica fell onto the floor on hands and knees. "You ungrateful bitch," spat Andy. "After all I have done for you, you treat me like this."

It had gone far enough. Greg felt like it was time for him to jump in. In no possible way was he just going to stand idly by and watch Jessica get hurt. "All you've done for her!" he roared. In the nearly empty room his voice reverberated across the walls. Andy's attention was quickly diverted from Jessica to Greg. He turned and fully faced the man whose face was contorted in disgust and rage. "It's your fault she was still a prostitute," he did not use the word whore, it left a bed taste on his tongue, "to begin with.

"I had the privilege to speak to her father last night. He told me everything about _you_. His debt had been paid off long ago. You wanted her so you convinced the mob to keep her, and even threatened to send her father pieces of her if he tried to contact her. And after you went through all that trouble, she still chose Croc over you. Must have hit your ego real hard."

"She chose a _freak_ over me!"

"Freak is an ugly word," stated Jessica. Slowly she clambered to her feet. Once she was on them, she stood to her full height facing the man. With her right hand she wiped the corner of her mouth and blood came off onto her hand. "Look at that!" she exclaimed. "You made me bleed, Andy. Silly, _silly_, rabbit that was not a smart thing to do. Now, I have to return the favor." The blade that had previously clattered to the floor was in her hand. She gently placed the tip of the blade on his abdomen and left it there unmoving. There was something she was waiting for. A queue.

A confident smirk made its appearance on Andy's face. She would not do it. The Princess he knew was too weak to even raise a hand to defend herself. What he failed to realize was that she was no longer Princess. Kind, gentle, and weak Princess was gone, replaced with Jessica. Jessica, a mix between Princess and Evil Princess. No longer was there a border in her mind separating the two. She had viciously ripped that fence down and embraced the madness that came with it. The dark side of her. The piece of herself she had been missing for five years. Hidden behind her own fear. But no more! No more will she be the sniveling coward that she was just a few short months ago.

"And what do you think you're going to do with that?" inquired Andy the smirk still in play on his face. There is was! Her queue. Silence on the set. Enter stage left. And action!

When she looked into his cold eyes, Andy shivered. A sweet smile was on her face, but was spoiled by the irrevocable madness in her eyes. An animalistic hunger shown brightly and intensely in those storm clouds against his cold dead ones. "This," she answered pushing the blade slowly into his flesh. She was shocked at how little pressure she had to apply to the object for it to slide so easily into his soft skin when no bones got in the way.

Once the fabric of his cotton white shirt touched her skin and the blade could go no further, she gave her wrist a little twist. Eyes wide with shock and terror, Andy gazed down at her. Pulling out the knife she moved it higher on his abdomen and to the right. With another easy push, it sank into his flesh. She repeated the process many times over.

The onlookers stared on, not being able to look away. It was like a train wreck, horrible but one just could not turn their heads. Selina found herself in Croc's arms trying her best not to gaze at the scene before her. Harley had found her way to Mike behind the bar, and buried her face into his neck as he held her tightly whispering meaningless words of comfort in her ear. Bellows and his friends had left, getting the man to the hospital. And Greg leaned leisurely against the bar watching Jessica exact her revenge with a smile on his face. Joker had not kept him around for his good looks.

The pain was intense for Andy and he hunched over leaning against Jessica heavily. Though much smaller than the man, she found the strength to hold him up. He nuzzled his face into her neck and she heard his small sobs, and they brought a smile to her face. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer to him, gripping the material to her black fleece sweater tightly. Never once did he push her away or attempt to stop her. Just let her continue her slow and arduous assault on him.

His warm lips, wet from the tears that he spilled, kissed her neck. "I always loved you," he whispered so that only she could hear.

Entangling the fingers of her right hand in his hair she forced him to look at her. "And I always hated you." She planted her lips against his. As she kissed him, she non-nonchalantly ran the blade across his throat, opening it. Hot sticky blood poured onto her sweater instantaneously seeping through onto her pale skin. Satisfied that he was dead, Jessica released him and watched as Andy's corpse fell in a heap onto the floor.

With her hand now limp, the knife fell to the floor. The clattered it ensued echoed across the silent room. Once that died down, the only noise that could be heard were sobs. After glancing around the room, Jessica came to realize that she was the one sobbing. "I killed him," she managed between breaths. "He's dead and I'm the one that did it."

The slim legs that she stood on felt rubbery and were no longer able to contain her weight. She dropped to the floor heavily and a loud _crack_ assaulted the ears of the onlookers. The fall was heavy enough to crack open the thin skin on her knees and blood seeped out freely. Jessica made no move to stop the flow, just stared into the oblivion of her shock.

Pushing himself off of the bar, Greg made his way to her. Once he was before her he knelt down and she instantly gripped the front of his shirt. The warm embrace he wrapped her in was what she needed more than anything at the moment. Soothing words he whispered to her fell on deaf ears but just the sound of his voice alone was calming enough.

"Have the cops been called?" Greg asked to no one in particular.

Mike was the one to answer. "Yes. I called them as soon as it started. They should be here shortly."

True to Mike's words the police showed up shortly thereafter. They processed the scene, taking photographs, collecting evidence, and gathering statements. It was then decided by one of the commanders on the scene that everyone would be taken to the station for questioning. Only Jessica and Croc were led out in handcuffs. Jessica because she was obviously the murder and Croc just because they did not like the way he "looked at them", according to one of the officers.

Through out the entire process, Jessica said not a word. The entirety of her small body had gone numb. Everything seemed to pass by her in a blur. Faces, cars, building, everything was the same to her. Just blurred visions as her mind was unable to register anything. At the station she did everything as if on autopilot. Her hands hung limply as they took her fingerprints, she moved when they took photographs of her when she was told as she sat when they told her to sit. At that moment, if someone had suggested she jump of a bridge she would have done so without second thought. It was not until she was sitting in an interrogation room by herself that her mind slowly started to process things.

The room was white, sickeningly white. White tiled floor, white ceiling and walls. The table and chair that she sat at were of the same gray hue as the two-way mirrors surrounding the room. Only two walls were void of their presence, the wall behind her and the one in front that had a heavy white door. The only splash of color in the entire room was her blood stained hands now cuffed in front of her sitting on top of the table.

A loud groan echoed across the small room as the door before her opened. In walked who she recognized as James Gordon. As he walked toward her his gait was shambling, shoulders were stooped, and his hands hung limply though he held a folder in his hands. His outward appearance was that of a man exhausted from life, but somehow he still had an air of authority around him. It was more evident as he sat down and gazed at her intently with his no nonsense blue eyes.

Gordon sat rigid in his chair and stared Jessica down. He was trying very hard to intimidate her, but it was not working. All the fear she had felt before had diminished into oblivion. There was absolutely nothing that man could say or do that would frighten her. She had vanquished her biggest fear and it felt very relaxing to her. No longer did she have to fear the mob coming after her because Andy would have been the only one to hunt her down and drag her back. She was very gladdened that Greg had talked her into going to _Jaded_.

As soon as Gordon's mouth opened to speak to her, Jessica cut him off. "They didn't have to handcuff Croc," she informed him. "He wasn't going to do anything."

A sigh left Gordon as he ran his hand through his graying dark brown hair. "Many officers have had dealings with Croc before and fear him."

"So, it doesn't give them the right to treat his as a criminal. I'm the criminal in this. I killed Andy, not him."

"You are openly admitting to the murder of Andy Hamilton. This conversation is being recorded and will be used as evidence in your trial. Don't you want your lawyer present during the interrogation?"

"No!" screamed Jessica slamming her hands against the table. "I want my Daddy! I want my brother! I want Greg! I want my friends! I want what I couldn't have while _he_ was still alive!" Tears escaped her tightly shut eyes.

"Commissioner," a voice called from the intercom startling Jessica, "would you please come here?"

After excusing himself, Gordon left the room only to enter the one adjacent to it. Inside were a few of the detectives that were on the scene and a psychologist that they had called from Arkham Asylum. Detective Stephens was the first to speak. "We have her. She openly admitted to the murder, not that we needed that, she's covered in the blood of the vic."

"We have established that she was the one who did it, the other witnesses have told us so," Dr. Michaels said. Dr. Michaels was one of the leading psychologists in Arkham now that Jonathon Crane was a patient there. Light brown hair was neatly combed back, making his already large forehead appear larger, on top of his head and cut just above the ears. His intense light green eyes were slightly too far apart covered by thick glasses that sat against his sloping nose, and his thin dry lips were cracked and in a state of a constant sneer. "We want to know why. Why did she do it and why did they all just sit back and watch?"

Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose at the spot where his glasses sat. "Because he deserved it according to all of them. It seemed the victim was not well liked by anyone and had virtually no friends." He released the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "They said that he hit her before she repeatedly stabbed him and while she slit his throat she kissed him."

"Precisely," Michaels commented. "Now, why? Why would she do that if she hated him so much?"

"Who gives a shit as to why?" one of the detectives snapped. Gordon looked to the man and recognized him as Simmons, a very good but not passionate detective. He got the crime solved but never cared as to the why.

"Because last time she was here she was a frightened little girl," explained Gordon. "She was afraid of everything and jumped at the slightest noise. Something caused her to snap and kill the man. Don't you want to know why that is?"

"No, I don't. We got the little whore and that's all that matters."

"That's my daughter you're talking about!" roared Detective Jones. He had asked to be present during Jessica's questioning. Out of the kindness of his heart, Gordon had agreed.

Simmons was on the verge of a retort but Michaels cut him off. "I believe we should let Detective Jones go into the room. She asked for her father, so let's give him to her and see where the questioning leads. He might be able to get more answers than you can and I would have more insight into her mind." It was an idea that Gordon did not like, but decided it would be best.

As her father entered the room, Jessica glared at the man so harshly he winced. "Jessie, I," he started walking to her.

"Shut up!" she snapped at him. "I don't want to hear your apologies. I just want to know why." There was no need for her to elaborate. Both knew what question she was asking. Why had he given her up?

Frank Jones sat across the table from his daughter. "They told me that they were going to kill you. Either I give you to them or they kill you." Reaching across the table he tried to take her blood crusted hand only to have her snatch it back. "I know you think I hate you, but I don't. All those horrible things I said to you were not directed to you but your mother. She's the one that I hate, not you. You look so much like her. So beautiful, just like her." He sighed and rubbed his face. "They were only supposed to use you as collateral until I paid them off. I worked as much overtime as I could and even got a second job at a warehouse where all the money went to them. It only took me a few months to pay them off but they wouldn't give you back. They told me if I even tried to contact you that they would kill you and send me your head."

The man was desperate for Jessica to believe him that much she could tell. His bright blue eyes were pleading and glassy with unshed tears. His appearance had changed drastically since the last that she saw him. What was once a body that was vibrant and full of life was now worn and broken. He appeared much older than his forty-eight years of age. Instead of looking almost fifty he looked closer to sixty.

"When your boyfriend came over last night I was glad to hear that you got away from them." Shock crossed Jessica's features. Greg had not informed her that he paid a late night visit to her father. "I was planning on visiting you today and telling you everything."

An ironic smile made its appearance on Jessica's face. "Looks like that didn't happen."

"No, no it didn't." Frank paused to gaze at his daughter for a moment. "Why did you do it?"

"After all that he's done to me, I couldn't do anything but kill him. He was going to make me go back, I know it!" she insisted. "After all the years of drugs, beatings and rapes from him I wasn't going to go back. Killing him was my only option and I took it. He deserved it."

"Jessica, there are other options than killing the man," Frank chided his daughter.

"Like what?" she questioned. "Arrest him and take him to jail? He'd make bail and he'd get out and come after me. No, there was no other option. I did what I had to do."

The four men stood behind the glass in the room adjacent to them and watched the conversation take place. None said a word, just watched. As the conversation grew longer, they were learning more and more about the reasoning behind why Jessica had killed the man. So intently they were listening to the conversation that when a knock came from the glass behind them all four jumped.

Greg was in front of the glass trying his hardest to catch their attention. "Hey!" he shouted at them. "I know that you're in there! Someone's always in there!"

Stephens pushed the intercom to Greg's room. "What do you want?" he asked rather harshly.

"You can't send her to jail. She needs help. You have to send her to Arkham. Her mind has been fucked with and jail would not be the place for her. It would just make her worse."

"Why should she come to Arkham?" This came from Dr. Michaels.

"She told me her reflection talks to her. Makes her do things. I should know I had to fix two of those things." He was referring to the time where he had to sew up her arm and the man he had killed after her attack on him.

"Who messed with her mind?" inquired Gordon. It would seem he had been the only one to catch that part.

"Joker."

That one word made all the men cringe. If it were true, then the young woman would have to go to Arkham. Michaels knew that more than the rest. Though the man had only been in Arkham for two months he had already sent three doctors to the hospital, four ended up in as patients in the asylum and two had committed suicide. With nine doctors gone, Arkham was hurting for more.

After hearing what Michaels had to say about the matter, Gordon quickly agreed. Jessica was going to need some serious psychological help and Arkham was the place to do that, the only place. Knowing that Joker lurked the halls of the place, it unsettled him sending her there, but there really was no other option.

"Michaels," Gordon started glancing at the man, "she's under your care now. Let's hope that whatever damage he's caused can be reversed."

"I highly doubt it but one can only hope," was Michaels reply. "I want to get her to Arkham as quick as possible and start immediate treatment. I think that would be best. She might be the lucky one and get better."

Simmons looked livid. He was very pissed. Pissed about the fact that Jessica was not going to jail, pissed about the fact that she would later on be released, and pissed that they actually believed Greg. "What is wrong with you?!" he shouted at the group. "You're just going to let her walk? She killed a man! Stabbed him eight times before she cut open his throat, and all you're going to do about it is send her to Arkham. What is the justice in that?"

Gordon sighed. Simmons was a good officer, but a young one. "What would the justice be in sending a nineteen year old girl to prison where she would face the same horrors she did in life and no chance of changing? She deserves a second chance. She's too young to be locked up for the rest of her life."

"You and your bleeding heart," Simmons sneered. "It's no wonder why criminals run free in Gotham. You don't have the balls to lock them up. You're a disgrace to the force and the name Commissioner." With that said Simmons stormed out of the room.

"Don't worry about him Commissioner," Stephens said. "He only sees the black and white, never the gray. One day he'll see it. Just give him some time."

Turning, Gordon gazed out of the two-way mirror at Jessica. Her and her father seemed to be having a lovely conversation and were laughing at an unheard joke. At the sight of her bright smile and lively eyes he could not feel anything but hope for the girl. Gordon was positive that she would turn for the better, that she would get better and live a normal life.

From the last time he had seen her, he would have to say thing were already looking up for her. The clothes she wore were much nicer and more modest. Her storm gray eyes were no longer wide in fear and there was a smile in her face. All timidness had dispersed from her and replaced with a hidden confidence and surety in herself. She had gained weight and was starting to fill out. And she had a man that cared deeply about her. Gordon had witnessed as the pair walked in with each other, Greg's arm wrapped around her and the other stoking her hair trying to comfort the girl. He had sent a heated glare at any officer that had tried to remove her trembling body from him.

Deep down Gordon was happy for the girl. After her encounter with Frankie, her older brother, Gordon had remembered where he had seen her before. It was a long time ago when she was much younger and her father would bring her to work with him occasionally. She had been a small girl and stared up at everything with wonder. Nothing had ever ceased to amaze the little girl and nothing sated her curiosity. A question was always on her small lips.

Now, she was grown and so much had changed for the worse. The hand life had dealt her was not fair, but she had bluffed her way through it and won. She had survived and no one could take that accomplishment from her. A new hand was being dealt and with it came a new life. Gordon hoped that this hand would be a little more fair.

But nothing is ever fair and the dealers cheat even in the game of life.

**Author's Note:**

So, here's another chapter for you all. A huge thank you to all those that reviewed the story. I'm very happy that I've been receiving so much feedback. Gives me a nice warm fuzzy feeling. I just wanted to let you all know that Joker will be making his second debut in the next chapter. His long awaited arrival will come. I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy the next. More reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thank you and you all have a wonderful day or night depending on where you are or what time you read this.


	22. Games in Arkham

Arkham was a horrible place. It had only been an hour since Jessica's arrival, but she had come to realize that instantly. The people who chose to work there were not the friendliest of sorts. As soon as she had stepped though the door a pair of overly large males had grabbed her and forced her to follow them. She was led into a room that had many showers in it and in there they stripped her of her blood soaked clothes, took her necklace, much to her annoyance, and scrubbed her skin so harshly that she was as red as a lobster after it had been fully boiled. The water they had sprayed her with had been so hot, she felt like she knew just how a lobster felt when it was cooked, being boiled alive.

After finished with cleaning her, they tossed her some clothes. The clothes were not to her liking, but she had little choice in her attire. They were light blue in color, so light they were almost white, and there were no buttons or strings on neither the pants nor shirt. Jessica guessed this was so the patients could not use them as weapons. She had no idea how buttons could be used as such things, but people always find a way.

Once she was fully clothed, minus a bra and underwear because the hospital did not provide that, she was ushered into yet another room. There her head was subdued to force the barbaric attacks of a lice pick. The woman who wielded such a thing would slap her on the back of the head every time that she so much as winced. After it was made apparent that not a single egg holding a louse was in her hair the woman let her go, her scalp now bleeding from where the comb had scratched it.

The two men reappeared and dragged her to what would be her room, which they literally threw her in. After she was in they slammed the door shut behind her and left without so much as a good bye. Jessica was very thankful for their absence. Being left to herself was a blessing. The only good thing she could say about the place was it was a hell of a lot better than prison. Next time that she saw Greg she would have to thank the man. If it were not for him, she would be behind bars with little chance of ever seeing the outside world again.

Now alone, Jessica had time to gaze about her surroundings. The room was white and she was starting to get sick of the color. There were two beds stationed against the walls with thin mattresses and covers. All the walls of the room were padded, but the floor and ceiling were not. A single window sat in between the beds and had thick silver bars blocking it. The only light was fixed on the ceiling and there was no light switch for it in sight. When it was lights out in Arkham, it was lights out.

There was not a single piece of furniture in the room except the beds. Jessica guessed she was going to have to wear the clothes that they had provided her for a long time. It was much to her distaste, but it was something she was going to have to deal with. There was no telling how long she was going to be there. It could be months or even years before they deemed her fit to leave the place.

Several minutes later the door opened and in walked a red headed woman. The only word Jessica could come up with to describe her was gorgeous. Tall and slim with legs that seemed to go on forever. High cheek bones, full pouty lips and eyes so green they appeared more like leaves off a tree. She was a woman that any man would find attractive and it left Jessica feeling very plain next to her. "You must be my new roommate," the woman stated. Even the sound of her voice sent chills up Jessica's spine. "My name is Pamela, but everyone calls me Ivy around here."

"Why?"

"Because of my tattoos," explained Ivy. She lifted her pants legs up and brandished her marks proudly. Jessica stared at them in wonder. From her legs the ivy that had been permanently etched onto her skin traveled upward all around her body and ended with one piece of the right cheek of her face.

"Wow!" exclaimed the younger woman. "I only have one tattoo and it does not compare to that. Where did you get it done at?"

"_Twisted_ _Points_, they do amazing work. Had to go back several times to finish all of this."

"That's where I got mine!"

"Really? Small world. Who did yours?"

"Don't know, wasn't really paying attention. Had other things on my mind at the time." Which was in fact true, she had been too worried about being hurt to pay attention to anything else. Ivy asked to see it and Jessica refused. "I don't really like it. It wasn't my idea; I was forced to get it by someone."

"A guy?" Jessica nodded. "I can't believe you let a guy mark you. You should never do that!"

"A frown creased Jessica's brow. "I have many marks by men and only one of them is a tattoo, I'm not complaining much."

"Okay. Well, let me show you around," Ivy offered deciding it best to change the subject. She led Jessica out of the room. "I never did get your name."

"Jessica."

While Ivy showed Jessica around they made small talk. It started out as just why they were there; Ivy had anger management issues against men, to the men in their lives. Jessica told her about Greg but decided against telling her about Croc when the woman happened to mention her once involvement with the man. Ivy had been a stripper at _Jaded_ and had met him there. They had been a couple until the day that she landed in Arkham. After killing the man that had hurt Jessica and he ended in there with her he had refused her telling her about Jessica.

"I swear if I ever meet that Princess bitch I'm going to strangle her," Ivy informed her. It was only more of a deterrent from telling the woman that she was Princess. "I can't believe he left me for some whore!" Ouch, Jessica felt the sting of that one. "Well, this is the Rec Room. This is where us crazies go and hang out." Ivy glanced around the room. "Shit!" she muttered under her breath. "He's here."

"Who?" inquired Jessica her eyes scanning the room. It was when her eyes landed on a certain slouched figure that Jessica guessed who the woman was referring to. Much to her horror, Joker stood in the center of the room a huge grin on his face as he talked to some men that were sitting at a round table. They seemed to be paying him no mind much to his annoyance.

Glancing up from the men, Joker spotted Jessica. "Princess!" his loud nasally voice reverberated across the room. Ivy stood rigid next to her.

"I'm sorry," Jessica mumbled under her breath. "I never knew Croc was involved with someone else. No one ever told me about you." Crossing her arms, Ivy huffed in non-belief.

"Come here!" commanded the man. The room had fallen silent and everyone's eyes were on her. It was not everyday that Joker found an interest in someone. Mostly he just skipped about and randomly talked to the ones he was next to.

The first lick of anger kindled inside of Jessica. He was doing it again. Treating her like a dog. She was not an animal and would not be treated as such. That was something she was not going to take. Princess might have, but Jessica would not. "Excuse me, I have a clown to go kill," Jessica told the woman next to her. Ivy saw the little twitch in Jessica's head and thought it better not to stop her.

Without incident Jessica made it all the way to where Joker was standing. "My pretty, pretty Princess finally made it. I just knew you'd show up." He squealed with delight clapping his hands together. "Did you miss me?"

The answer he received was not what he expected. With as much strength she could muster Jessica punched the man in the face. It was no easy feat considering the height he had on her. "Now, now, that was not very nice," Joker chided her fixing his broken nose. "You're going to make Joker a very angry man." This was met with another punch to the face. "Really, Princess, you're starting to really irritate me," he growled his voice low and dangerous.

"My name is Jessica," she hissed.

"Hm, Jessica," he said and seemingly rolled the name on his tongue giving it a taste. After several times repeating the name he gazed back down at her. "I don't like it. Jessica is not a good name for a pet." Looking up from the girl and spotting Crane, his eyes lit up in amusement. "Be a good little puppy and stay here." He skipped away from her and to the man Ivy had decided to sit next to.

At hearing what he referenced her to, Jessica's anger started to boil over. Witnessing her eyes twitch several times as well as her entire head, the men next to her scooted away in fear they would feel the blunt end of her madness. Being crazy themselves, they recognized crazy and she was it. Going had already gone out the window for she was already gone. Far gone.

No longer able to contain the rage, she let it spill forth. With full force she ran after the man and tackled him from behind. Not expecting the attack, Joker fell with her weight, though it was not much, and fell to the ground barely having enough time to turn his head to the side. "Do you think I will let you call me a dog and let get away with it?" Her voice was hot with anger, but that did little to affect Joker.

"Yeah."

"You're wrong. Princess would have, but I'm not Princess anymore. I'm Jessica. Understand?"

"My, my Princess, you should really learn to control your anger. It might get you into trouble."

With the palm of her hand, Jessica hit the side of Joker's head. As it bounced off the floor a satisfying _crack_ echoed across the now silent room. A cackle escaped his lips only for Jessica to do it again. One might ask where the guards were while all of this was transpiring. Well, they were all standing idly by taking bets on whether the girl would live out her next few moments or if Joker would kill her. So far, he had never done the former. Jessica was not the first to attack the man and would not be the last, but she would be the first to live. She was just too much fun for him to get rid of now that she had changed.

Several more times his head hit the ceramic tiled floor, several more times the satisfying crack bounced around the room, and Jessica decided she was finished. Tired of that game and ready to move on to something else that did not involve the man beneath her. Getting up she attempted to walk away only to end up flat on her stomach when a strong hand gripped her ankle, completely devouring it. There was no wonder as to who had tripped her. There was only one possible answer and he was clambering on top of her back and sitting on it as she had done to him just seconds ago.

His fingers entangled themselves into Jessica's hair, and pulled. With him sitting on her butt it forced her to arch her back and rest whatever weight she could on her elbows. Not the most comfortable of positions but one she was going to deal with. She was not about to show the man any weakness and uncomfort was one of them. So, instead she hissed, "Get off of me." The tone she had intended was commanding but it came out strained and pleading.

"I, uh, I don't think so." Pausing to lick his lips he continued, "Pets aren't supposed to attack their masters. I'm not, ahem, going to let you go until you learn that."

Her brows furrowed closely together. "Did you really just say 'ahem'?" Though it made her more uncomfortable, she turned her head to look at the man out of the corner of her eye.

"That, that's not the point."

A small smile appeared on Jessica's face causing him to release his hold on her and stare down at her in confusion. "God, you're weird." A light giggle bubbled from her throat. "Get off me," she commanded still giggling.

The sudden change in Jessica's mood unnerved Ivy. Just a breath ago she had been a boiling pot of rage and now she was laughing all because the man had said "ahem." Ivy had not found it that funny; in fact she had been frightened that Joker was going to kill Jessica. He had done so numerous times to other patients, but not the giggling mass beneath him.

Another thing that troubled the woman was the fact that Jessica did not seem to be fear the man. Ivy held no fear for men, but he was different. The way he laughed, the constant smile on his face, and the way he talked just struck the cord of fear inside of her. It was inevitable in a confined place, but she tried to avoid any contact with him whatsoever. Jessica had just strolled right up to him and hit him without hesitation. A dangerous action but one that did not seem to have any repercussions for the younger woman.

Many had done the same and ended up dead heartbeats later. His smiling face would contort into rage and he would attack whoever had the audacity to do so. Not with Jessica. It had seemed to irk him more than piss him off. Watching him now climbing off of her was strange. Even more strange was the fact that he helped her to her feet. When he tussled the dark brown hair on top of her head the giggling ceased and she frowned at him. After he was finished she just shrugged and literally skipped over to where Ivy sat.

Before Jessica reached the table Ivy whispered in Crane's ear, "What do you think about the new girl?"

Intent on his game of chess with the man across from him, he shrugged. "My diagnosis is that she has a borderline split personality disorder. Separate personalities do not take over her body, but she has rapid changes in her emotions. What do you think, Hatter?"

Mad Hatter, so named for his love of _Alice_ _in_ _Wonderland_ and its character Mad Hatter, just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like her."

Crane rolled his eyes. "You don't like anyone. I think she'll be an interesting addition to this place." In turn, Ivy rolled her eyes. Crane thought everyone that walked through the door would be an interesting addition.

Humming a nameless tune to herself, Jessica flopped down in the seat next to Mad Hatter who shifted over with her sudden nearness. Paying the man no heed, Jessica continued to hum to herself and play with a strand of her hair. "I think my hair's getting darker." That random bit of information raised a few eyebrows. "My hair was always dark, but it has seemed to get darker over the past few months. I wonder if me eating better has something to do with that."

Crane witnessed a little twitch in her head as Joker took the seat next to her amongst the round table. His bright blue eyes returned to the game at hand. "Why are you here?" he inquired in genuine curiosity.

Still fiddling with the strand of hair Jessica answered the man. "I stabbed a man a couple of time then cut his throat open." The tone that she used was girlish and non-caring. The storm gray eyes she had darted across the room and she realized people were still staring at her. "What are you all looking at?!" Her voice cut across the silent room and Ivy jumped at the sudden loudness of her voice. "Go back to playing your checkers and mind your own fucking business!"

Jessica turned back to her strand of hair and a silence ensued across the room. The only noise that could be heard was the quiet _clicks_ and _clacks_ as someone moved their pieces on the checkers boards. Running her fingers through her thick red hair, Ivy sighed in discontent catching Jessica's attention. Ivy was not comfortable with the girl sitting there nor the company that she had brought with her, who was just looking at the group with mild interest.

"I'm sorry if my presence disturbs you," Jessica started sweetly. For a moment, Ivy thought she was going to leave and take Joker with her. "But frankly, I don't give a flying fuck. You're just going to have to get used to it because I'm not going anywhere for a _very_ long time. Besides, we're roommates."

Jessica's attention was turned back to Crane when he asked, "Who did you kill?"

"My ex-pimp. He was a real prick." Joker giggled and her attention diverted to him. "You're next on my list, Puddin' Pop."

Ivy snorted as Joker's face fell into a frown. He did not mind the death threat, but the nickname had to go. As sweetly as she mustered, Jessica smiled at the man batting her long black eyelashes at him. "Don't, uh, call me that, Princess," he retorted blandly.

"What? You don't like Puddin' Pop? I do. I think it's a cute sweet name. Perfect name for a clown." Resting her elbow on the wooden table she placed her chin in her hand. "I think it has a certain ring to it. Puddin' Pop, it just puts a smile on my face." As if to show the man that, her smile widened.

Joker threw his head back in mad laughter. When his hand moved toward her face she flinched noticeably to the others. With his forefinger and thumb, he pinched her cheek hard causing a pink hue to form. "You're just too cute," he said squeezing her cheek harder. Releasing it, he gave it a light pat. "Princess, your cheek's all red. Are you blushing?"

"My name is Jessica," she quickly hissed slamming her fist against the table. The pieces on the chess board jumped and a couple of them toppled over. Annoyed Crane glared at the young woman. With all her attention directed toward the demented clown before her, Jessica did not even notice Crane's heated gaze.

"I told you. I, uh, I don't like Jessica."

"Fine. Whatever. Call me anything but Princess," she relinquished. It was made very clear that no matter how much she insisted he was not going to call her by her actual name. If she could not beat him, she would compromise with him. Any name, she deemed, would be better than Princess. After all the years of being called that, she was sick of hearing it. The name was associated with her time as a prostitute and she would rather forget that lengthy period in her life.

Tilting his head to one side then the other, Joker studied Jessica. His dark eyes darted to and fro across her body taking everything in. Her skin as pale as snow, her hair closer to black than when he had first laid eyes on her, her lips now as red as the ripest apple. Apple. Ha, he had it! The perfect name for her. "Snow White!" he exclaimed slamming his fist against the table. Unlike Jessica's attempt every chess piece on the board toppled over.

Jessica's brows furrowed deeply in confusion at her newly acquainted nickname. "Snow White?" she questioned.

Before Joker could reply and explain his reasoning behind the name, Crane shot out of his chair and glared at the pair. If looks could kill, they would be on the floor convulsing. "You ruined my game of chess," Crane stated between gritted teeth.

Sharply Jessica's head snapped to the man. "Boo hoo, Crazy Man, boo hoo."

All at the table except Jessica and Crane burst into fits of laughter. Mad Hatter laughed so hard that he fell from his chair and Joker was holding his sides. Ivy attempted to cover her laughter by placing her hands on her mouth, but her attempt was futile and the sound leaked through.

Wiping an invisible tear from his eye, Joker patted Jessica on the shoulder. She stiffened from the touch. "Don't touch me!" she growled at the man. "Next time that you do I'll make one of those chess pieces disappear down your throat." The declaration only made the man laugh all the harder.

The corners of Jessica's lips twitched as she fought back her own laughter. It was a hard battle, but she somehow managed. The man's laugh was very infectious and she had nearly caught it. Bursting into a fit of giggles would not have been the right thing, or so she felt. Her laughing would have just made her seem all the more crazy and in that place, that was one thing she did not want. What she wanted was to get out as soon as possible and if the doctors that were lurking around the room spotted her laughing along with the man she really would have seemed insane.

No, she was not going to laugh along with the man. She was not going to be deemed crazy just because of him. Though it was his entire fault that she was there in the first place. If she would have never met him, if he would have never taken an interest in her, she would not be there. Then again, she would not have met Greg, would still be working the streets, and Andy would still be alive to haunt her every waking moment.

The man might have messed with her head, but if it were not for him, her life would still be a living hell. She had much to thank him for, though she would never openly admit it. Instead, she placed all her hate and blame toward him. It seemed more appropriate for her to do than thank him.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Jessica spotted someone walking toward her. Turning fully, she spotted a man of average height and build wearing black slacks with black dress shoes, a white button up shirt and a doctor's coat over it that brushed against his calves with every step that he took. His light brown hair was slicked back flat against his head and reflected the light from the overuse of gel. The overly large forehead that he unabashedly showed off had small creases in it from the constant sneer on his thin cracked lips. On top of his sloping nose were thick glasses that made his light green eyes appear bug like as they peered over at her.

There was something about the man that unsettled Jessica. It was not his outward appearance which was not overly creepy. The way he held himself was not it as well, for he stood up at full height with perfect posture. There was nothing for her to explain the explicit fear that she felt. Every sense that she had stood on alert. The small hairs on the back of her neck prickled and rose. She involuntarily went rigid in her seat.

"Hello Jessica," the man started as soon as he reached her. "My name is Dr. Michaels and I'll be your psychologist during your stay here." He held out his hand for her to shake. Though it repulsed her, she took it and gave it a limp shake. The palm of his head was dry, cold and very smooth. He held her hand for longer than was necessary so she ripped it out of his grasp. His buggy eyes darted around the table. "I see you have become acquainted with some of our more prestigious patients. They are a very interesting lot though I don't see them together often."

"You don't see us together because you don't come in here," Crane retorted snidely. After being a fellow colleague to Michaels he did not like the man very much. He was rude, snobbish and overly confident in skills that he did not posses. Many times Crane had made the man look foolish in front of other doctors but they still insisted on hiring him and keeping him around. Even gave Michaels his old position.

Ignoring Crane, Michaels continued his one sided conversation with Jessica. "Now, Jessica, if you would come with me I would like to start your treatment." Without waiting for a response he gripped Jessica's upper arm, removed her from her seat, and dragged her away.

Watching Michaels pull the poor girl behind him Crane could not help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. Sympathy was not something he gave out freely, but what Jessica was about to face she deserved it. "Why such the long face?" Joker's nasally voice sounded like nails on a chalk board to Crane. "Are you sad to see Snow White go?"

A glint of amusement appeared in Crane's eyes. "And if I am, is there something you're going to do about it?"

Tilting his head from one side to the other, Joker studied the man across from him much as he did Jessica. The man did nothing but stare back one side of his lips curved up and formed a smirk. Joker caught the amusement in Crane's sky blue eyes and a smile formed on his. "Do you want to play a game?"

"I do."

"What kind of game?"

For the better part of ten minutes Crane and Joker discussed their little game. It was out of sheer boredom that Crane had decided to collaborate with Joker of the game that was to come. Nothing truly interesting ever happens in Arkham and they have to make their own fun. Playing chess with Mad Hatter was very stimulating for the brain, but not very exciting.

Ivy stared at the two men incredulously. She could not believe what she was hearing. Both of them were planning on messing with the new girl and making a sick game out of it. Finding entertainment was hard in Arkham, but doing such a thing was disgusting. The worst part of the whole thing was there were virtually no rules to the except for two. No killing her and no messing up the others "prank", as they called it.

With no interest Mad Hatter sat and listened to the two men talk. He felt no pity for the girl that was about to be the butt of multiple jokes over the course of who knew how long. All he could think about was how interesting it was going to be. At least there would be some entertainment in the days to come. His life in Arkham had been rather dull. With no signs of ever being released, he needed something to pass the time. He would not participate in the game, it was not to his liking, but watching it would lift his spirits slightly.

After they were done discussing the game, Crane held out his right hand to Joker. "Do we have a deal?" he asked with the largest smile he's had on his face in a while.

"We do," answered Joker taking the man's slightly smaller hand in his. "When do we, uh, start?" he asked when he released the other man's hand.

"As soon as she gets back."

Now that that was settled all they had to do was wait for Jessica to get back.

**Author's Note:**

So, here's what you all been waiting for. The return of Joker. I hope that all of you enjoyed the chapter. There really wasn't anything exciting in it but I hoped you liked it all the same. Just let me know. Reveiw and all that good stuff that you do on here. Any questions you have, just ask! I'll answer them to the best of my abilities and try not to give anything away.


	23. Here and Now

Hot. Burning hot. Her skin seared and felt as if it would melt off her bones. Inside she could feel her blood rush through her veins with every heart beat as if they were liquid fire. If someone cut her open she swore fire would burst forth and consume her. The pain was so immense and mind consuming she could think of nothing else. With a driving force it was slowly taking her deeper into the dark pits of madness. If she was able to think of anything else but anguish she would have been praying for the sweet release of death. A pity her mind could do nothing but process the massive amounts of torture it was going through.

Michaels watched as Jessica twisted and withered in her restraints with pure joy. Being a doctor in Arkham was hard. The pay was low, the patients horribly boring, and most of his coworkers were just as insane as the patients. His pay being low is the reasoning why he had started to make his little concoctions. Taking a page from Crane's book he started to create drugs that attacked the many functions of the brain. Only his focused on pain and not fear.

What he had injected Jessica with was his newest creation and one he was so eager to try out. As far as he could tell the drug was having the desired effect. "Look at her!" he exclaimed to the male nurse that stood across the bed from him Jessica was withering on. "She's the perfect specimen. Her reaction is just beautiful! Every nerve in her body is responding just as it should."

Reaching out he ran his cold dry hand down her flushed sweat covered face. Her skin was hot to the touch but that seemed to bother him little. Tears streamed down her face melding with the film of sweat and pooled on either side of her face. The screams she was issuing would have rebounded across the halls of the asylum if it were not for the thick piece of silver duct tape that covered her mouth. The white sheets underneath her covering the mattress were tattered and torn from where her long sharp nails dug into them. If it were not for the restraints holding her down her back would be arched into a perfect C.

Blood trickled down her wrist from her harsh struggling against the overly tight restraints. Each dark red drop stained the pure white sheets. The little blood that did not fall from her wrists stained her skin a dark pink hue. A shocking splash of color on her pale body. Another muffled scream came from her and her body started to convulse.

Frantically Michaels turned to the nurse. "Hand me the nullifier. Her mind can't take anymore." The nurse did as he was told and handed a syringe to the male his arm reaching across Jessica body. With a quick glance he looked at her face. Only the white of her eyes could be spotted as they rolled in the back of her head. "Get the tape of her mouth and hold her tongue before she swallows it!" Michaels commanded the younger male.

Doing as the doctor said, the nurse ripped the tape from her mouth rather harshly and her lips bled. Opening her mouth he stuck his middle and index finger into her mouth. Normally, a wooden tongue depressor would have been used but there was none in sight and no time to search for one.

Plunging the long needle into her forearm, Michaels injected the only cure for his creation into her blood stream. It took and instant effect. Her body calmed and her eyes closed. Deeply sighing in relief the male nurse started to retract his fingers from her mouth. Jessica's eyes shot open and her mouth closed. The man screamed as she bit through the flesh and bones of his two fingers at the second knuckle.

The man fell to the floor and she spat the contents of her mouth at Michaels. Blood splattered against his white shirt as the detached fingers hit him in the chest. Michaels could do nothing but watch in horror as the young woman ripped her restraints from the bed with an inhumane strength. Adrenaline. It was nothing but the adrenaline coursing through her body he kept telling himself. His drug did not have that effect on any of the animals that he had tested it on. They had all either died or returned to normal conditions after he had injected them with the nullifier.

Now released from her restraints Jessica was on top of the nurse that was cradling his hand against his chest. He tried with futility to back away from her, but he was not quick enough. She sat upon his stomach and glared down at the man. Contorted with such rage, anger and hate Jessica lost her lovely appearance. Her storm gray eyes had such ferocity in them making them appear more like the live clouds they took their color from, and he swore he saw a flash of lighting in them.

A demon is what she was. Thin long fingers with equally long nails reached down toward him. The nurse knew that this was his punishment for the sins that he had committed. The Devil had come to collect his soul in the visage of a young woman. It was all in his head. Jessica's physical appearance had not changed. But in his fear he had to see something different then a woman half his size that he had once seen as pretty.

Screams. High pitched and womanly screams. Those screams of the man were echoing in the room and in her head. They drilled through her mind with the same intensity of pain that she had been experiencing only moments ago. She had to shut him up. With her hands she reached toward his throat and dug her long nails into his flesh. Clawing deeply within the thin flesh of his neck tore it away and dug deep until it reached what she believed was his vocal cords.

Once his screams had ceased she moved down to his chest after adjusting her seating arrangement down. With every jerk of her wrist chunks of flesh came off of his body and embedded into her nails or just hung off of her fingers. Blood seeped from the man in large gushes and covered her soaking through the thin material of the patient uniform that she wore.

Mad laughter built up in deep in her chest, overflowed into her throat, and then spilt forth from her apple red lips. The man that was underneath her now lay still in death. His gold gray eyes opened already starting to turn glassy. With slow jerky movements, Jessica stood from the body and her attention diverted from the body to Michaels. A smile the Devil himself would be jealous of formed on her lips.

Closing her eyes she reached her arms up and fully stretched, standing on the tips of her toes. "Mm," she licked her lips seductively running her blood and gore coated fingers through her hair, after she had finished stretching. Chunks of meat clung to the strands and some of them fell to the floor with a sloppy wet noise. "I don't know what you did to me, _Dr_. _Michaels_, but I like it. I feel so… _alive_."

"A-are you going to kill me?" Michaels' voice was high in pitch from fear. Sweat covered his brow and breathing quick.

The fact that he was afraid made Jessica's smile grow all the wider. "No, of course not!" she exclaimed as if such a notion was preposterous. "I need you, Michaels. You're my doctor! You're the one that has the authority to release me." Her hands found her hips as she glared at the man. "And I _am_ going to be released." The statement was said with such authority and power the man could do nothing but agree as he quaked in his expensive shoes. Jessica swore the man was about to shit himself. The thought made her laugh.

Such an innocent sound was her laugh. Something that should not be coming from such evil lips. Attention once diverted back to him the wind chime laugh instantly died much like the man at her feet. "Now, Michaels, we're going to set up a few ground rules." Sure that she had his full attention she continued. "I don't care who you tell about this, really I don't. That matters little to me. What is going to happen is I'm going to be allowed to do whatever I please in this place. As far as I see it, you owe me. For what you did to me and would have continued to do to me, your life is no longer yours but mine. Out of the goodness of my heart," she placed her bloodied hand on her chest where her heart lay, "I have decided to let you live. That makes you my property. You will do as I say when I say. Understand?"

Gulping loudly, Michaels nodded unable to find the ability to use his voice. "Good. First thing is you will no longer experiment on _any_ of the patients here. Along with your life, all of your worldly possessions are mine as well and that includes your drugs. I decide when they get used and on who. If you ever disobey me I will tear you to shreds in such a manner that not even your mother will be able to recognize you."

Turning on her heels, Jessica exited the room. There was no need for her to change; Michaels would make sure that nothing would come of her blood spattered body. For the very first time in her life she felt in control and felt empowered. The drug Michaels had induced her with had sent her deeper into the pits of madness that lurked like traps in her mind. Most say that madness is a terrifying thing. At one point in her life she would have thought the same, but no longer. Now that she had been forcefully driven into it by multiple people, she was rather enjoying the sensation.

With a skip in her step she entered what Ivy had dubbed the "Rec Room." All eyes were on her blood soaked form as she smiled playfully and skipped over to where she had been previously sitting not twenty minutes ago. A mix of emotions appeared on her companions faces at the sight of her. Ivy and Crane were openly disgusted at her appearance, Mad Hatter stared at her with mild interest, and Joker just smiled that devilish smile of his.

"You have blood all over you," Crane stated the obvious.

Jessica mocked panic and gazed in fake horror at her attire. "Oh my, you're right." Her storm gray eyes met his sky blue ones. "Are you secretly Sherlock Holmes?" A cough masking laughter came from Ivy and it abruptly ended when Crane shot her a glare. Placing her chin in her hand, elbow on table, Jessica smiled at the man. "I don't know what you name is," she informed Crane. "So I'm just going to call you Grumpy."

The furrow of Crane's brow deepened. Shrill laughter came next to Jessica spewing forth from the red painted mouth of Joker. He wheezed seemingly heartily, though Jessica did not believe what she had said to be that funny. As appearances were, Crane did not like the new name that she had given him and was glowering at her without restraint. Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned her attention to the man next to her that continued to cackle.

"Shut up, Dopey!"

The laughter instantly ceased. With a look of pure rage, Joker gazed down at the younger girl. Before her trip down the pit of madness, she would have been afraid of that look. Afraid of the pain that it promised. Still falling ever deeper into the bottomless chasm of insanity, nothing but a smile formed on her face. The gray color of her eyes was brightly alit with merriment and her ability to piss the man off. He had fucked with her head, why not fuck with his?

Now that she had the chance, a small ability, and somewhat the mind to do it, she was going to do just that. Mess with his head. Though she dearly wished for a bloody revenge, playing with his head would have to sate her thirst for the moment. Deep within herself she knew that she was not ready to physically take him on, she was far too weak for that. If she really wanted to take him down she was going to have to work hard physically and mentally.

For two months she had had the time to recall her short stay with the man at his hideout. Noticed many things that her feeble mind had not picked up on at the time. Through his mad glazed eyes Jessica had witnessed a light of genius. An intelligence hidden deeply behind the scattered masses people liked to call insanity. The man was smart, of that she had no doubt. One would have to be intelligent to play around with the mind of another with such cunning and ease. To read people as if they were reading words out of a book that sat in their lap.

In a mere two days he had tore chunks out of her mind. Shattered the already broken pieces until they were floating fragments of dust in the wind. Had grabbed her by the wrist and led her into an insanity so deep she would never be able to crawl out. Once already that deep in, she had no choice but to dig deeper in order to free herself. Sure she could have just sat tight and waited for a helping hand to pass her by, but Jessica was never a patient person. Besides, she was starting to become accustomed to the madness and darkness that accompanied it.

Still annoyed at the name that she called him, Joker's eyes flicked from her face to her wrist. Deep crimson droplets slowly slide down and made a small puddle at her elbow. It was clear to him that it was not the blood that caked her hands. There was just no enough on them to continue to slide. When she had ran her fingers through her hair most of it had transferred to it instead, and the remainder of it was now on her chin and part of her cheek from resting her head in it.

Instead of doing what any normal person would do, Joker was not a normal guy, and informing her that she was bleeding he ran his finger along the thin line of blood from her elbow to wrist. When he pulled away the tip of his forefinger was covered it the warm liquid. With the knowledge that she was watching his every movement, he brought his finger tauntingly slow to his lips and, with a quick flick of his tongue, licked it away.

With clear visibility Jessica stiffed. Her right hand fell from her face and landed with a _smack_ on the wooden table top. With every ounce of will that she had accumulated over the past two months she fought the urge to jump on the man and shove her tongue into his mouth to taste the blood that was her own. The thick long nails of her right hand scraped against the wood leaving deep etches, scaring it. Standing up quickly after her nails had met her palms she stated, "I'm going to take a shower," and made a hasty retreat out of the room.

As soon as she was out of the room she literally ran into Michaels. Glaring up at him she poked him hard in the chest with her finger. "I'm taking a shower and I want clean clothes and a towel, now!" The heated tone of her voice left no room for argument and he scurried off to do as she had commanded. Arms folded across her chest she leaned against the wall next to the Rec Room doors listening to the sound of Joker's laughter billowing from between the cracks of the door.

Oh God, how much she hated that man. Knowing how she would react he had done that just to mess with her. Most likely retaliation from her calling him Dopey. The name had struck his ego hard just as she knew it would. Jessica could read people, but not from the conventional methods. She could not read body language nor decipher emotions through the eyes. Her method came from the only thing that she knew sex.

There was a lot to tell about a person from sex. From the way that their hands would run down her body to even their movements and pace. The method that she used did not always work for her for some people were just different, but with Joker she had an inkling that she had been correct in her assumption. The way that he had completely overpowered her had led her to believe that he had to be a man in control. Her experiences with those types of people were that they thought highly of themselves and did not like to be insulted. Using that knowledge she had struck at the man's ego and felt the triumph of victory when his laughter had ceased.

She should have known that he would retaliate in one way or another, but what he had done was just plain cruel in her eyes. The man had known about her fascination with blood, he was the one to introduce her to it, and had used it against her. Now more than ever she wanted to rip his throat out as she had done to the male nurse that had squirmed beneath her. A delighted shiver ran down her spine just thinking about it.

Many disturbing thoughts of what she would do to Joker when she got the chance ran through her mind. They were cut short when Michaels returned with a fresh pair of clothes and towel, which she promptly snatched from him. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits as she gazed up at the man. "Is there shampoo and soap in the shower room?" Curt was her tone having a massive amount of dislike for the man.

"Yes," answered he with a squeak. "They are in dispensers that line the wall." Without thanking the man, he did not deserve thanks, she walked off to where Ivy had informed her where the showers lay.

As Jessica walked into the shower room, Greg rounded the corner, headed to the Rec Room, along with Doctor Magnolia Reece. Doctor Reece was the newly appointed had doctor to Arkham Asylum, which was a stunning feat. Considered a prodigy to her field, none had accepted the job to go to no other and only a few old timers had stood in her way for that was the largest problem that barred her way. Doctor Reece was a woman. It would have been the reasoning for her not gaining the position had a single capable male doctor stood up to try and claim the position. A little blackmail and bribery had ensured that they would not.

Strong will, even of temper and mind, and her fairness had eventually won her her newly acquainted seat of power. The many men that had put her down now stood beside her. She had earned their respect in proving them wrong. A great number of them had her pegged at failure in her first week. Six months later and she was still going strong. During her walks in the long capacious halls, Doctor Reece held her head high at her accomplishments. Then, _he_ had come.

Joker had only been in the asylum for a short period of time, but he had completely abolished everything she had created. Every chance that he got, he under minded her authority. The worst he had done was convincing some of his fellow mentally disturbed to rise against the guards and doctors. A riot of such large proportions had commenced that the local and state authorities had been called in to break it up. All had come to terms that the little uprising should be kept silent from the press.

It was not until after losing several doctors under her care that Doctor Reece decided that she alone would evaluate Joker. No others were allowed within speaking distance of the man for fear that she would lose more. With her head held high and with the utmost confidence in her abilities she had went into her first session with Joker only to for it to be shattered to the highest degree. With just a few simple softly spoken words he had decimated everything she had worked so hard to achieve. And now, because of it, she was unconditionally enamored with the man.

It all had been too simple for Joker to get her to the point of borderline obsession with him. During their first session he had invoked sympathy with the woman with one of his many scar stories. Had even thrown in a few tears to sweeten the deal. Once he had seen that he had her sympathy he decided to take it up a step by insinuating feelings toward the woman. Never did he outright said that he loved her, he could never bring himself to say the L word, but he might have hinted at it just a little bit. It had worked surprisingly well for him and now she was eating out of the palm of his hand. Everything that he said to her was believed to be true. While in the confines of the hospital he could now do as he pleased, not that he did not before, and it would go unpunished.

Greg recognized the signs of Reece's obsession almost instantly after he had stepped into her office. The tall leggy blond with silvery blue eyes had a picture of Joker sitting on top of her desk in a golden frame. With tongue bitten to the point of almost puncturing Greg fought off the unnerving urge to laugh in the woman's face. As strong willed as the woman had been he should have felt pity for her, but could not. He could not see beyond the hilarity of it all, having met Doctor Reece previously before.

The first time he had met her was several years ago. Magnolia, or Maggie as some called her, had been an acquaintance and a student of the man Greg had been dating at the time. An ambitious yet snobby woman, she had completely disregarded Greg's existence once he had told her he was going to be a medical doctor. He had made things worse by claiming that he was going to be an actual doctor that did not sit on his fat ass, which hers was not, and listen to people whine about their problems in life. But hey, the bitch deserved it even though the comment had ruined his relationship with a man nearly the same age as his father. The look on her face had been worth it all.

It never occurred to him that he would ever meet the woman again. Not in Gotham at least. Having said that she grew up that and claiming never to return, he had been unpleasantly surprised to see her sitting behind the desk of the most authoritative position in Arkham Asylum. Greg guessed that one could never truly leave Gotham behind.

"If she's anywhere," Reece started in her cringingly annoying voice, "she'll be in the Recreation Room. Patients are not allowed anywhere else unsupervised."

"Hm, I see," Greg replied taking in consideration of her words. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "I would guess that the donation that I have contributed to this hospital would allow her to do as she pleases." No question, a statement of fact.

"It would indeed." Thought Reece disliked the man greatly she could not help but grin widely. "The considerable amount that you have funded not only this hospital, but me as well, will ensure that she got away with murder if she so chose that path." The poor male nurse will never see justice, not that she knew of him just yet. Michaels had ensured that his failure will forever be unknown by his superiors.

Pushing open the yellowing swing doors, Reece ushered Greg inside. The room, he came to notice, was quite bland. Nothing about it stuck out. White walls, white floor, round wooden tables surrounded by wooden chairs, and the zombie like patients drooling on themselves. It lifted his heart to know that Jessica would not be joining the walking dead on account that she would not receive any drugs, which very few of the patients had the same privilege.

Scanning the room with her silvery blue eyes, Reece huffed. "It would appear that she is not here." By the tone of her voice Greg could tell that the woman was peeved, but it mattered little to him.

"That's fine," he told her. "I'll just wait until she shows up here, which I'm sure she's bound to. You can go back to whatever it was you were doing, I know my way around." He waved her off dismissively. It seemed to irk the woman more for she left with the same huff she entered in. For one reason or another, Greg truly loved pissing that woman off. It proved entertaining for him and he rather enjoyed being entertained, even if it was something as simple as angering some woman he hardly knew.

As Greg's hazel eyes scanned the room in search of a place to sit, Ivy spotted the man and sat straighter in her chair. "Hello handsome," she muttered under her breath. It had only been meant for her to hear, but the others had acquired the ears that one did when in an asylum.

The insane did not naturally have the superhuman hearing most put to them. Like anything else, it took a lot of hard work to acquire it. Years of listening for someone that could be sneaking on them that was associated with their paranoid delusions. Once they hit the asylum, their delusions become reality. An insane asylum is much like prison. There is always someone lurking behind every corner ready to attack at any moments notice. Footsteps echoed across the halls following their prey. One did not just fear the inhabitants, but the workers as well. Much like prison guards, they searched for any excuse to use forceful measures on any of the unlucky patient crossing their paths.

Many of the patients have met with those said guards and have come out for the worse. It was hard for anyone, even one that was not of the right mind, to fight off a small group consisting mainly of thick statured men. It would seem that the only one that had been left out of the groups teasing was Joker now that he could roam around freely. Before, when he had been confined to an underground room strapped securely into a straight jacket, they had entered his room and had their fun with him. Since he had gained his roaming freedoms, he's badly injured a few of the guards and managed to kill two with nothing but his fist and feet. It was easy to crush ones windpipe with the heel of the foot or snap ones neck while lurking in the shadows.

Hearing Ivy's proclamation, Joker decided to investigate on who the woman was referencing to. His dark pitted eyes alit with amusement when they landed on Greg. "Doc!" His shout cut across the near silent room. Greg's handsome features twisted into a cringe at the sound of the man's voice that was utterly unforgettable. Forever would it be etched into his mind like the trail of a bullet as it entered the brain. "Come sit by Joker!" Patting the seat that once held Jessica he enticed the man over.

Heaving a great sigh, Greg walked over and sat next to the man against his better judgment. It was not that Greg had much of a choice in the matter. Knowing the man, his little suggestion was not that but a command. A command Joker expected him to follow, as he expected with all of his commands. Those that defied him were usually left dead with either a bullet or knife wound somewhere amongst the body that would cause their untimely death. Even though they were in an asylum and weapons of any sort were prohibited, Greg suspected the man would still find a way to injure him in some way.

With eyes wide in amazement, Ivy watched as the man sat down before her. Normally, the woman would be trying to chat him up, hitting on him, trying her best to get into his pants, but for some reason, she was at a loss for words. Hearing the name Doc had struck a cord of familiarity with her, one that she could not quite place. It was obvious that him and Joker knew each other somehow, a way she thought might be better off not knowing.

"Have you and the Princess been having fun together?" The first question out of Joker's mouth. Greg suspected he would ask as much. Any normal person would have been asking about the outside world and trying to convince him to find a way to break him out. Joker was not normal and cared little for what was outside of the walls he had been imprisoned to. And why should it matter to him? If he so wanted, he could break out of the place at any given time, blindfolded and with his right arm lopped off.

With a sideways glance, Greg looked to the man. "I don't see how that's any of your business," then he smiled, "but yes, we have been having a great time. Well, that was until she landed herself in here after murdering someone." The corners of Joker's mouth twitched in amusement. "I guess I would have to thank you. If she hadn't come into contact with you, she would be in jail right now. That tattoo was just icing on the cake."

In that moment, Ivy finally realized where she had heard the name before. "Wait a minute!" Both men stopped their conversing for long enough to look to the woman. "You're Doc, as in _the_ Doc? The information gather for some unknown man. Torturer extraordinaire."

"And how would you know that?" Amusement flickered in Greg's eyes. Never before did he think what he had done for Joker was known. To find out that not only was it, but he was known as well. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.

"There's a couple of people that are in here because of you." A flirtatious smile formed on her face. "It seems now that you got them to talk, they just can't shut their mouths. They give out all kinds of information freely."

In response to her statement Greg just shrugged his shoulders. The woman was flirting with him and trying to make it obvious, but he was not going to take the bait though the woman was undoubtedly attractive. Scratch that, she was down right gorgeous. But the one thing Greg valued more than anything in a relationship was loyalty, and, having been cheated on, would never be unfaithful. If he had not been tied down to Jessica, he had no idea how to really define their relationship, he would have jumped on the woman the instant that smile played on her lips.

"So," started Ivy flinging her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her dainty wrist, "what brings you here?"

"Jessica," he answered plainly. Then, he looked to Joker. "Where is she?"

"Snow White's off in the woods playing with the cute fuzzy animals," proclaimed the man standing up. Greg could not help but roll his eyes at the comment and new nickname. Joker just had a knack for calling someone everything but their name. "I'll go get her before the hunter decides to cut out her heart!" With a single bound Joker was off to get Jessica.

A snort came from Crane gaining the attention of Greg. "What?" Greg inquired to the man.

"She's in the shower," explained Crane. "She just got out of one of her sessions with Michaels and was covered in blood." With a studious eye Crane gazed upon the newly restarted game of chess he was currently playing with Mad Hatter. Chancing a glance at the game Greg noticed that the man was losing and very badly at that.

Several minutes later Joker returned with a very pissed off Jessica. Only donned in a towel and hair still dripping wet it appeared that she had only just gotten out of the shower when Joker had decided to get her. As he dragged her by the wrist to where the others were sitting she was screaming every name she could think of at the man.

With much force Joker through Jessica at Greg and she landed "gracefully" in his lap still streaming a long line of curses at the man. When she finally looked up and spotted Greg a smile of pure joy lit up her face. Wrapping her arms around his neck, nearly flashing the individuals in the room, she tightly hugged her to him. "I missed you," she whispered in his ear.

With a light kiss on her neck he admitted that he missed her as well. "I've got a surprise for you," he told her pulling back lightly. "I talked Doctor Reece into giving your necklace back to you." From what seemed out of nowhere, it had come from his coat pocket, Greg produced the necklace and clasped it around Jessica's slim neck. "She was completely against the idea," he explained further, "but once I told her the content of gold in it, she relented. It was placed in her head that you would use it to strangle someone, but it would break before that happened. Besides, I place you as someone who would rather use their hands than an object."

The humor in the statement was lost on Jessica for she was gazing at the necklace with such intensity that she hardly heard the man speak at all. Gladdened by the fact that she got it back nothing else seemed to matter to her. That necklace was the first thing someone had bought her, not including Musket, which actually meant something to her. Croc had never been able to afford to by her anything, food and living expenses had been more important. Being a bouncer at a strip club did not offer much for pay.

The reasoning behind her becoming so attached to the shiny golden object was not only because someone she cared deeply for bought it for her, but it was _hers_. It was the first thing that she could call her own and no one could take that away from her. If she had bought it herself, it would have felt that much better, but she did not considering she did not want to use Greg's money as her own. No matter how many times he had told her that she could take as much as she wanted, she could never bring herself to do it. It just felt wrong to her.

"Now," Greg spoke loudly trying to gain her attention, which he did, "let's get you some clothes and you can show me around. There's a few things that I want to talk to you about anyways."

A smile and a nod were his response. Cloths sounded very good to her at the moment. Many eyes were on her and she was starting to feel uncomfortable. For some odd reason, she was sure that she would have to get used to discomfort. It seemed to recently follow her around just as Musket had done in the house. Oh well, at least she was happy for once. That is all she cared for at the moment. She was happy and the man that caused it was now helping her off of his lap taking extra measures to ensure that the towel stayed in place.

A small inkling of doubt passed through her. Jessica wondered if the happiness would last. Form what time has taught her, joy never stuck around. Only disappointment seemed to be the constant in her life. In the future, she was sure, Greg would grow sick of her and leave. Leave her alone to fend for herself as she was used to people doing. Very few had ever stuck beside her.

Pushing all depressing thoughts from her, she led Greg to the shower room where her fresh clothes lay. It was not in her to worry about the future. She could worry about the future when it came and it would come as it always did. The here and now was of the only importance to her. At that moment, she was with Greg and she was happy.

Whatever the future may bring her way, Jessica was sure she could handle it.

**Author's Note:**

Another chapter for you all. I meant to release it earlier today but I slept in considering I actually have the day off. Sorry about that. Well, I hope that you all enjoyed it. Just let me know with some nice reviews or ones with constructive criticism. Thank you for reading and for those that have reviewed the last chapter.


	24. Mad Hatter

All contents in the overly white room were strewn about the room in disarray. The beds were upturned, mattresses off of the springs, and the sheets ripped off of them. With frantic eyes and hands Jessica searched the room once again, but to no avail. It was not there. The one thing she valued above all things was no where to be seen. Her necklace was missing. Missing, gone, disappeared right from her neck! The last made her pause. Never had she taken the necklace off of her neck since she had gotten it back. That only left one option. Well, two really. Either Crane or Joker took it.

For the past six months of her arrival those two had been pulling all kinds of stunts with her at the butt end of them. She had found herself locked in dark closets screaming for them to let her out while pounding of the reinforced wood until her fist bled. Clothes had come up missing while she was in the shower and once even her towel. Ivy had gotten upset about the latter and had forever stopped them from doing that by watching the door while Jessica was in there. Somehow she had convinced Mad Hatter to do the same though it was evident that he did not like the younger woman.

Though Ivy kept a wary eye on the men it had not stopped Joker from sneaking into their room while they slept and chopping most of Jessica's hair off. Her once waist length hair had been cropped up to her shoulders with strands at different lengths. It was not until Joker openly admit to it during a group therapy session that she knew exactly who had done it. The session had been cut short when she had brutally attacked the man with the plastic fold up chair that she had been sitting on. The assault had went on for several seconds before the orderlies were called and the chair was pried from her hands. She had ended up in solitary confinement for a total of an hour before they had released her per Michaels' orders. Doctor Reece had been more than willing to let her rot in there for touching the man.

The entirety of her body twitched with the annoyance that she felt. All other transgressions that the pair had committed against her could be forgiven, even laughed at, but not that one. Not the taking of something precious to her. That she could not forgive and _would_ not forgive. Whichever one had done it would be in a world of hurt. It was _her_ necklace and no one, _no_ _one_ was allowed to touch it beside her and Greg.

Still fuming Jessica stormed out of the room in search of the pair. They were always seen together, whispering, plotting their next prank on Jessica or just blatantly laughing at her. Why they had chosen her of all people to play their jokes one she did not know. What she did know was that it was starting to slowly become more and more irritating with each passing day. Everyday that came it was something different and they never seemed to run out of ideas. She had given up the hope of it ending months ago for it seemed that it would not end. Each prank was worse than the one that proceeded it. All would have been well if they were just childish, but they were not. They tested her mental capacity as well. If it did not end soon, she knew she would completely lose it and just kill them and everyone that stood in her way.

Unfortunately she knew that she would not get very far. The little bout of strength that she had shown in her first "session" with Doctor Michaels was nothing more than the adrenaline from when her body had kicked into high gear with the overwhelming amount of pain she was subject to. It saddened Jessica to know that. Now, she felt like she was forced to be the whimpering coward that she had been when faced with an obstacle. It frustrated her to no end. A frustration she took out in the gym.

When Jessica had found out that Arkham had a gym she was ecstatic. It had been provided for the patients to cure their endless boredom, the ones that were not so drugged up they were walking vegetables. The room was virtually unused. Upon hearing that, she instantly started to go in it. It was the only place that Crane and Joker would not dare tread into and bother her. The orderly that watched over the place was a little less lenient when it came to who entered that room.

The man, Kristopher was his name, was overly large with a hair buzzed so close to his head the color could not be distinguished and had bright blue eyes that came with his Western Russian heritage. His shoulders and chest were broad and it always seemed that his shirt was on the verge of ripping every time that he moved. When Jessica had walked through the door he was pleasantly surprised that she was interested in working out. He had told her the last person to walk through the doors and was actually interested in using the equipment was Croc. At hearing the man's name Jessica felt a pang of guilt. She still felt horrible about leaving him without a word and it was made worse every time that she had to face Ivy, who constantly brought the man up. Jessica tried harder than ever to avoid that subject.

At the moment she was not worried about anything else but her necklace. All other matters were trivial and did not have her attention. Not even Ivy who was trailing after her. She had entered the room as soon as Jessica had exited and saw what state it was in. Having a feeling that something bad was about to happen, Ivy decided it best to follow the younger woman and make sure that she stayed out of trouble though she knew it would not help much. Trouble seemed to be a constant companion to Jessica.

With much force Jessica pushed open the swing doors to the Rec Room. Hitting the walls the doors flung back with the excessive force and nearly hit Ivy as they swung back. She was internally grateful for her natural reflexes. If it were not for those, she would have had some face time with the swinging objects.

With every muscle in her body twitching Jessica stomped up to the two men who were in an epic battle of checkers. "Where is it?" she asked with teeth gritted as soon as she was next to the table.

Looking up from the game, Crane eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "Where's what?" he feigned innocence.

As quickly as a mouse trap snaps so did Jessica's head to gaze at the man with narrowed eyes. "I wasn't talking to you." Just as quickly she turned back to Joker. "Now, where is it? I know you have it. I never take it off and you're the only one with enough skill to sneak into my room while I was sleeping and take it. Give it back to me." All of this was said in a loud whisper.

Finally taking notice of the girl next to him, Joker smiled devilishly. "Are you talking about this?" he questioned pulling out the necklace from under his shirt that was firmly clasped around his neck.

Jessica's gray eyes widened in horror at the sight of her precious item around the man's neck. "Give it back to me!" she demanded reaching for it only to have her hand slapped away by Joker.

"Ah ta ta ta," chided Joker waggling his left forefinger in her face. "I can't just give it back. You have to earn it first."

Near tears Jessica stomped her foot in a childish manner. "Why can't you just give it back to me?!" Losing all control of the volume of her voice in her anger she yelled the question louder than she had intended.

"I told you, you have to earn it."

Folding her arms across her chest she started to pout. "How?"

Pretending to take consideration into her question Joker failed to answer for the passing of several heartbeats. It seemed too long to Jessica. "The day you can take it back from me without the help of anyone else," his eyes shifted to Ivy momentarily and then back to Jessica, "you can have it back."

"Fine," Jessica relented. With a huff she flopped down in the empty seat next to Joker. Seeing as there was not going to be any trouble Ivy left the room in search of Mad Hatter who had taken it upon himself to hide himself in his room nearly all day. "Why are you two picking on me?"

"It's simple," Crane answered as he moved one of his red pieces on the bored, "we were bored. There's really not much to do in here and messing with you passed the time." He gazed up at Joker through his thin silver rimmed glasses. "It has appeared that I lost our little game. There is no way I can top the reaction you got out of her with the necklace or her haircut."

Eyes narrowing dangerously low, Jessica glared between the two men. "This was just a game to you two? " To confirm thing, both men grinned at her. "Assholes," she muttered under her breath.

After almost an hour of watching Crane lose to checkers Jessica was started to feel the whims of boredom take over her. Sadly for her there really was not much else for her to do. Arkham Asylum was a very boring place and Jessica contemplated on leaving it several times. The only problem with that would be the cops would question her early departure. She would have to reside within the hospital for at least a couple of years before they would actually believe that she was cured and Greg had not just paid her way out.

From him Jessica had learned that Gotham P.D. was keeping close tabs on the amount of money that he was spending. When he had made the "donation" to Arkham they had arrested him and questioned him for hours on it. In the belief that he was paying off the doctors, which he was, they refused to release him until he had convinced them that he had only made the contribution in order to ensure that the facility Jessica was being held in had the resources to ensure that she would recover from her ordeal. That took several hours, his lawyer Norman, Gordon, and passing a lie detector test, Greg had learned how to control his heart beat so he had passed with ease. With nothing to hold the man on, they were forced to release him. It helped that Norman threatened to sue if they held him any longer without charges.

After that, Greg decided it was best to use the money that Joker had left behind in the hideout that had yet to be discovered. It had come to him that he could always use the funds that his father had left behind in the secret accounts off in various countries across the globe, but he did not want to have to deal with the hassle of that. It would have taken several weeks just to get that money. There was no need for him to use it anyways, he already had cash in hand and the best thing about cash was that it could not be traced quickly. It would not be until the money landed itself in the bank that anyone would discover it. With the mob owning most of the banks in Gotham, it would be believed that it was them and it would be left alone. One of the many reasons why Greg loved Gotham. Getting away with crimes was so much easier.

Several minutes after Jessica's boredom had reached its peak and she was ready to toss the checkers game Crane and Joker were playing to the floor just for the hell of it, Ivy walked in. Her pine needle green eyes darted around the room anxiously as she made her way to where the three sat. When she reached them she just stood, shifting from one foot to the other, and wringing her hands together. Her dark shadow hovered over Crane and she gazed at him with such and intensity that he swore there would be a hole in his head. "What is it, Ivy?" he finally asked the woman.

"It's Hatter. He won't come out of his room. He's started to talk in rhyme again and won't stop reading those damn books. You remember what happened last time he was like that."

"What happened?" inquired Jessica. She was very new to the place and had not heard anything about the man. It could be the fact that she did not talk to the man much. He did not seem to like her very much and tried to stay clear from her. The short times that she had come into contact with him did not lead to much talk. Normally he just ignored her completely.

"They took away his books," explained Crane shifting one of his pieces across the board. "It caused him to become violent and he nearly killed one of the orderlies. They threw him into solitary confinement for several months to calm him down." Jessica's mouth formed a little 'o'. "I'd go talk to him but currently I'm in the middle of something."

Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms Ivy glared at the man. She knew she should not have come to him. Crane did not care about anyone but himself. Mad Hatter was a patient of his when the man was a doctor yet he could not bring himself to leave a simple game of checkers to go and speak with him.

"I'll go!" volunteered Jessica. Being bored was no fun to her and she would do anything to cure herself of it. Before anyone could protest she was out of her seat and heading for the door.

With a satisfied smirk Ivy sat down next to Crane. "You know he doesn't like her," Crane pointed out. "He could hurt her. Why did you let her go?"

Joker was the one to answer the question. "Ivy wants Snow White to get hurt." With one move he jumped four of Crane's red pieces. "She's still a little sore about the whole Croc thing." The smirk stilled played on Ivy's lips. She did not confirm nor deny the fact.

"I hope your vendetta against her will be settled when she's hurt," spoke Crane. "Especially since it's going to cost Hatter his life."

With confusion Ivy turned to the man. "What do you mean 'cost Hatter his life'?"

"I thought it would be obvious that her man, whatever his name is, would kill him if he hurt her."

Ivy scoffed. "Greg doesn't look the type to kill anyone."

"He doesn't look the type to torture people either," Joker pointed out, "but he does it. You should have seen the smile on his face as he cut into them. He always cut them so perfectly and knew exactly where to do it. He was the only one that I would allow to gather information. None of the people accidently died when he did it. Must have been those years in med school. Who would have thought that a pretty boy would enjoy hurting people? Not me."

"Why did you hire him?" Ivy asked out of genuine curiosity.

Shrugging Joker answered, "He looked useful. It wasn't until he took the knife from me and started to work the person that I discovered he had any talent. Never killed anyone, left that to me, except for one mercy killing after Snow White stabbed a man repeatedly and he didn't have a chance at recovery."

"Whatever," Ivy stated folding her arms across her chest and leaning in the chair heavily. "I don't care as long as the little bitch gets what's coming to her."

As the three were talking about her, Jessica was searching for Mad Hatter's room. Having never been there before she had not a clue as to where it was located. It took her nearly half an hour to find it. When she entered the room she was horrified at what she saw. Having expected to see the man lying on his bed reading a book, she was shocked to see his arms held by two orderlies and Reece holding what was obviously his book practically teasing him with it.

Watching the scene for a moment Jessica decided on what to do. It was not until she saw Mad Hatter hang his head in defeat that she knew what to do. "Hey!" she screamed at Reece walking up to her. "Why don't you leave him alone?!"

Staring at the girl with harden silver eyes Reece eyebrows furrowed in aggravation. She really did not like Jessica. The young woman was seen as nothing but a nuisance to her. She was not really bright and constantly got her way with her constant whining. Reece was almost positive that she had slept with Michaels and that was why the man was at her beck and call all hours of the day. Greg showered her with money and presents. It seemed to her that one had to only spread her legs for men to lavish her with such things.

Jealously was the main reason for Reece's dislike of the girl, but she would never admit to it. Jessica having Joker as a constant companion irked the older woman to no end. He had claimed to love the woman, though he had never said it, but spent most of his time with the little whore. During their daily sessions he would talk about her and ignore Reece's advancements. What she did not know was the deranged clown was doing it on purpose. Trying to see how far she would go in her jealousy. It was nothing but a game to him and one he was having a lot of fun with. He was just waiting for the day that Reece snapped and attacked Jessica. The outcome of the fight was unknown to him, but he was guessing Jessica would come out to be the victor considering she was mentally unstable and she did not shy away from death.

With a 'humph' Reece flung her long blond hair over her shoulder. "I don't have time to deal with children. Why don't you go back and play with your dolls."

Jessica felt her body twitch in annoyance. There was a dislike in her at being treated as a child, though, she knew that she acted like one at times. That could be blamed on the fact that she lost most of her childhood and was forced to grow up before her time. Pretending to be a child again somehow made her feel that she really never lost it and that it was still there somewhere.

Pushing her anger away she deliberated on what she should do next. When it came to her she smirked at the woman. "Okay, I'll go play with my dolls. Joker needs some attention anyways. It seems he's not getting enough from _someone_ so I have to do it. I would have never guessed that there were woman out in the world that didn't know how to please a man. It's really sad actually. When I meet whoever it is he's screwing I might have to teach her a thing or two."

Reece's eyes widened in her surprise. Quickly regaining her composure they narrowed back into slits. "You little slut!" she spat in Jessica's face. "If you touch him I swear I'll strangle you."

"Give me the book and leave along with those gorillas of yours and I won't."

Cocking her eyebrows Reece folded her arms across her chest and made her stand. There was no way she was going to follow the girl's orders. She was not some weakling that could be commanded to do the whims of one of the patients. She was in control and would be in control. Arkham was her hospital and no one was going to take it from her especially one such as Jessica. No, she would not lose her command.

Seeing as the woman was not going to leave Jessica took the next step in her plan. "Fine, looks like I'll be keeping Joker company."

As she turned to leave Reece stepped forward and, gripping her shoulder tightly, spun Jessica to where they were facing each other. Being much taller than the younger woman, Reece had to look down at her. "Fine," she relented through gritted teeth. "Here's the fucking book." Turning to the two men still holding Mad Hatter she ordered them to follow her out of the room with her.

"Stupid bitch," Jessica muttered under her breath in her triumph. Turning to Mad Hatter, who was now sitting on his bed, she handed him the book never glancing at the title. As quickly as a snake striking its prey he took the book from her hands and clutched to his chest in a desperate attempt to keep it safe.

"Why did you help me?" Mad Hatter asked noticing that Jessica was not leaving.

"I don't know," answered she flopping on the bed next to him. He instantly scooted over to where he felt there was a more comfortable distance between the two.

Mad Hatter suffered from obsessive compulsive disorder and did not like when people where near him. It was hard to tell from his outward appearance with his long scraggly hair and long nails. If one took time to further investigate him they would notice that his hair was never greasy for he kept it clean and his nails, though long, were neatly trimmed and not a speck of dirt was underneath them. After touching anything he vigorously washed his hands and never used the same bar of soap more than once. Some of the doctors provided him with hand sanitizer and he was one of the few that were allowed to take showers by himself, which he stayed in for a lengthy period of time and insisted on wearing some form of footwear so his feet did not touch the tiled floor of the room. In fact, he was the only one that was allowed to wear footwear inside.

After being manhandled by those gorilla shaped men he wanted nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and wash off the germs from them touching him. It would be impossible for him to do so. None of the doctors followed his whims as they did with Jessica. Somehow the girl knew how to work people to her benefit though she was evidently not that intelligent. For one reason or another Mad Hatter believed the girl to be smarter then she knew. He was almost positive that if she took the time to apply herself she would prove to be very cunning, as she had just proved with Reece.

"Th-thank you," he stuttered. If there was one thing in the world he was not used to, it was thanking people. People rarely helped him and just turned the other cheek when Reece or one of the other doctors started to harass him, which they have done multiple times over the course of the ten years he had been in the facility.

A small smile graced Jessica's face. "It was no problem. They shouldn't have been picking on you in the first place. I don't really like Reece. She's a first class bitch with her high and mighty no one is better then her attitude. I hate people like that."

Glancing around the room Jessica took quick note that there was only one bed. Mad Hatter was one of the lucky few that got his own room. Jessica was green with envy. It was a hope of hers that she would one day get her own room. Ivy was great and all, but she got the feeling that the woman did not really like her. That was a lie. It was not a feeling; Ivy had flat out told her that she did not like Jessica and the reasoning behind it. Maybe being with Croc had been a bad idea but one she would not change for the world. Not even for her red headed bitch of a roommate.

Lost in her own thoughts, Jessica never realized how uncomfortable Mad Hatter was becoming with her sitting so close to him. When he shifted on the bed causing it to move she was torn from her thoughts. "What's it called?" she asked glancing at the book that was held securely in his arms.

"What?"

"The book you are reading. What's the title of it?" Mad Hatter moved his arms just enough to where Jessica could read the title of the book. "_Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_," she read aloud. "Is it any good?"

Mad Hatter's eyebrows cocked up at the question. He could not fathom that no one had read the book before. The question in itself was foreign to him and he had never heard it before. He almost did not know how to answer it. "It's the greatest book I have ever read," he answered finally finding the words.

"Will you read it to me?" Jessica bit her lip ready for his refusal. So many times before she had been denied the simple request as a child. Her mother and father had been too busy fighting and her brother refused her for the simple fact that he did not like to read. Soon, she had given up asking anyone. One could imagine her shock when the man readily agreed.

Adjusting himself so that he was in a more comfortable position he opened the book to the first page. His back was touching the wall and his legs were sprawled out in front of him the tips of his shoes brushing the ground slightly. It made Jessica realize just how tall the man was. Never once that she had glanced at him had he been standing straight. His form was always slouched and only seemed to be just mere inches taller than her. Seeing him stretched out she guessed that he was maybe just an inch shorter than Greg.

When the man started to read Jessica was pleasantly shocked at the man's voice. Normally it was quiet and hardly above a whisper. While he read it was strong and full of life and emotions he had never expressed before. Just the sound of it made her smile. It was the most magical voice that she ever heard. Every word that he read seemed to come to life and she could picture everything with such clarity she felt as if she were there herself in place of Alice.

Eventually she found herself leaning against his shoulder slowly being lulled to sleep by the sound of his magnificent voice. So lost in the telling of the story Mad Hatter never came to realize that the girl was leaning against him. It was not until she whimpered in her sleep did he notice such a thing. Ready to leap off of the bed and get as far away from Jessica and the germs she carried, he was stopped when one of her small hands clutched at his shirt causing him to stiffen.

Going through several options in his head he deliberated that it would be best if he woke the sleeping girl up and made her get off of him. Not too gently he shook her awake. As soon as he head lifted off of him he jumped up from the bed and compulsively rubbed the spots she had touched as if to try and rid himself of the germs he could "feel" crawling on him.

Through sleep lidded eyes she gazed at him. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize that I fell asleep." Rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands to get rid of sleep, she pulled back shocked to find them moist. "I'm crying." She let out a small laugh at the prospect and more tears built up. There was no reason for her tears, and knowing that only frustrated her further making more and more of the small droplets spill out of her cascading down her face as rain does when it hits a window. Bringing her knees up to her chest she buried her face within them, her body racked with hard sobs.

Not knowing what to do Mad Hatter took a step toward the door, and then stopped taking one back. He repeated the process several times and seemingly engaged himself in pseudo dance. Thoughts swirled around in his head as he calculated everything around him. Two options appeared within them. He could leave and get someone better qualified at handling such situations but that could prove fatal. Jessica could harm herself or someone could sneak into the room and do it for her, which there were many who would take the chance if so presented to them. The other option was he stayed and tried to comfort the younger woman himself.

That in itself could prove fatal not only for her but for him as well. The last person he had comforted had landed him in Arkham. It was his one and only friend. A girl that was as close to a daughter as he would have. She had been raped and become pregnant. Still in high school at the time, the girl had no clue as to what to do so she had turned to him. In retaliation Mad Hatter had blown up the locker room of the boy's basket ball team while the team was still inside considering the boy who had committed the crime was a member of the team. Only later had he learned that the girl had lied, out of fear of her overbearing mother, to him and the act had been consensual.

The girl was horrified at the act and had called him a monster and a lunatic. He never saw her after that. In his depression he had turned himself in. Ten years had passed and he was still in Arkham wallowing in the self pity that he felt. After that he had vowed never again to get close to someone for it only led to nothing but pain and heartache. But Jessica's crying was proving to be the undoing of that vow, one that he did not want to break. Having a weak spot for crying woman, it was hard for him to stand idly by and watch. He placed the blame on all the books he had read about damsels in distress, which there always seemed to be a plethora of.

Coming to a decision, Mad Hatter seated himself next to the girl on the bed. As soon as he was close enough Jessica buried her face into his chest. His right arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer to him. Her sobs deepened and she clutched his shirt desperately. Later, when she was finished crying, she would apologize for the awkward moment. He would just pat her on the head and tell her everything was fine. It would cause quite the stir when the man touched her. The doctors would go nuts over it and Reece would once again be peeved at the girl in the assumption that Jessica had slept with a man that was close to the same age as her father. Only the pair would know what had transpired between them. It would be their shared secret and one no one was privy to.


	25. Big Sister

Several weeks had passed since Jessica's little melt down. Currently she found herself seated across from Joker playing him in a game of chess. Having no clue as to what she was doing, she was undoubtedly losing. Her determination at winning the game stopped her from giving up. The stakes of it were too high. If Jessica won she got her necklace back. If Joker won she would have to stop randomly attacking her and do all that he says. The reasoning behind the request was that he wanted his little puppy back, or so he told her. The reality of it was that he wanted to agitate Reece some more.

There was no possible way Jessica could lose. She could not and refused to. There was no way she was going to comply to the man's orders once again. The only problem with her determination was that the bored was void of most of her white pieces and only a few remain. The rest where gathered on Joker's side of the table lined up in a neat row as if to taunt her with her evident failure. Stupidly she had let him pick the game, and it had to be chess, the one game she did not know how to play. After being coached on the basics for a round, they started to play for real with high stakes. Well, high for Jessica. Joker could care less if she won back her necklace that was still firmly clasped about his neck.

When Greg had first spotted the man was positively pissed. He had gotten the necklace for Jessica and Jessica alone, not for a mad man to tease the young woman with. No matter what, he knew that he could not convince Joker in giving it back and there was no use trying. He offered to buy her another one but she refused telling him that she already had one it was just in the wrong hands at the moment. Seeing her determination in getting the small item back, he relented and let her do as she pleased.

One wrong move and Jessica lost the game. Before Joker even touched his piece to give the final blow Mad Hatter slapped his pale forehead with the equally pale palm of his hand, it had been years since the man had been out in the sun. "Check mate!" declared Joker in his nasally high voice after moving his queen to take her vulnerable king. It was a small victory to him considering that he knew he was going to win.

"Fuck me!" screamed Jessica out of exasperation of her defeat.

Eyebrows cocked high on his forehead, Joker stared at the girl. "You know," he habitually licked his lips, "there are many men in here that would take you up on that offer."

Leaning forward Jessica retorted in a low tone, "And if I had a dick, this is where I'd tell you to suck it." Mad Hatter released a guffaw so loud that it echoed across the room. The scared corners of Joker's mouth twitched as he fought back a grin. The face paint that he wore still plastered all over his face. "I have a question." With a gesture of his hand Joker told Jessica to continue. "How do you still have your make up on? Shouldn't it have worn off by now?"

"That was two questions," stated the clown across from her and it earned him and exaggerated roll of her eyes. Slamming his hand on the table Joker bellowed, "Don't roll your eyes at me!"

Instantly Jessica's heart started to race. It beat rapidly within her chest threatening to burst. The only time that she felt fear of the man was when he yelled. His high childish voice changed to one much deeper and darker. The most frightening part about it was that his voice would go straight back to normal as soon as he was done yelling as if nothing had happened. The changes of his mood were like that of flipping a coin; one never knew which side it would land on.

The doors to the Rec Room burst open slamming hard against the light tan tiled walls behind them. Turning their attention to the noise the three spotted Crane coming toward them with quick footsteps and eyes slightly widened. Once he reached the small group he stopped. His chest heaved in and out as a track runner's did after a hard sprint. "Get her out of here," he ordered Mad Hatter between breaths.

Seeing the man's distress, Mad Hatter did not question him and tried to usher Jessica out of the room. She twisted her arm out of Hatter's grip. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"There's no time to explain," insisted Crane. "Just get out of here!"

There was such urgency in his voice that Jessica had half a mind to listen to him, but decided against it. "Not until you tell me what's going on!"

"Fine!" Crane relented. "Two patients have been admitted into the hospital. I didn't have time to see who the other one was because I had to rush here so fast," he quickly explained. "The first was very attention grabbing. Mr. Zsasz. They finally caught him again."

Crane had said the man's name as if everyone should know it. Only Mad Hatter seemed to recognize it and his face paled when it was mentioned. "So," Jessica stated. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal is he's a serial killer and Reece, who doesn't like you very much, has decided to bribe him into killing you."

Much to Crane's surprise and dismay, Jessica burst into laughter. Her wind chime giggle filled the room to the brim and overflowed out of the doors bounding down the hallway. "That silly, silly rabbit." Jessica shook her head still smiling. "What a stupid thing for her to do. I'm going to have to teach her a lesson."

"What the hell did you do to her?" Crane asked Joker in exasperation. It was common knowledge, at least to him, of what had transpired during Joker and Jessica's first encounter. The sociopathic clown had told all to him.

With the largest grin the man could muster on his face Joker turned and faced Crane. "I like her better this way. She's way more fun!"

With light twitches throughout her body, Jessica skipped to the door and stood patiently by it waiting for the man known as Mr. Zsasz to amble through it. It was not a long wait. A few seconds later the man entered the room a smile gleaming on his face. He wore the usual garb that the patients were required to wear. Since the white shirt that he wore was short sleeved it showed off the collection of white jagged scars on each of his forearms. Jessica took the time to count them slowly, six on his left, and eight on his right. A brief wonderment of where he had accumulated such things passed through her, but she ignored it for it mattered little to her. All she knew about the man, all she needed to know, was that he was there to kill her at the whim of a highly jealous and vindictive woman.

"Hello!" she brightly greeted him throwing in a smile just as bright. "I just bet you're the one that's supposed to kill me!"

Mr. Zsasz glared down at the younger woman with his up tilted strangely colored eyes. They were maroon in color and Jessica spotted no tell tale signs of contacts. Never before had she encountered a man with eyes of that color. One of her clients had had eyes of the same hue as the petals on the flower of lavender. But his, Mr. Zsasz, were the strangest and most sinister color that she had ever witnessed before. She remembered briefly that Hannibal Lector had the same color of eyes after reading _The Silence of the Lambs_, a book she did not care too much for. For one reason or another she did not seem to like books about psycho killers.

Seeing as the man refused to speak with her, Jessica rolled her eyes and walked away. All he was doing was glaring down at her and it was really starting to tick her off. Feeling the first twitch of her annoyance in her pinky finger of her right hand, she decided it best just to leave him standing in the doorway. After she had made it back to the three she had left her gaze hit Crane. "I'm not impressed," she boldly stated to him.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "What did you expect, him to attack you right away?" A small uplift of her shoulders and then dropped back down was the reply she gave. "Mr. Zsasz doesn't attack right away. He's a hunter. He likes to stalk his prey before he kills them."

"Whatever," Jessica snapped. She was in a sour mood due to the fact that her "hunter" was not in the least bit impressive to her. Some kind of flair would have been nice. But sadly, the man was just plain, the most impressive thing about him being the color of his eyes. When she remembered about his scars she quizzed Crane of them.

"They're self inflicted. It's his victim count." He was hoping that the statement would engage some fear in the girl, but was sorely mistaken.

Being able to tell that the man was trying to scare her, she was still unimpressed. "Only fourteen. Still doesn't pique my interest. Joker," she pointed over to the clown make up wearing man across from her, "has killed more than that. If I should be afraid of anyone, it's him." Joker grinned in satisfaction. "I'm still not afraid of you," she informed the man which wiped the smile clear of his face.

Crane shook his head. Jessica did not know that the tallies on Mr. Zsasz's arms were not the only ones he had accumulated over the years. There dozens more across his torso. Once, Crane had tried to count them all. He had given up after only several tries. The most he numbered was thirty. "There's something wrong with you," muttered Crane loud enough for the others to hear.

"Ya think?" The sarcasm in the question was not lost on the blue eyed man. "I want a rematch," she voiced to Joker. Shrugging, he took his time in setting up the bored. He did not know why she was trying so hard, there was no possible way she was going to win against him. They could play as many times as she desired, and she would still lose to him.

"I don't mean just the fact that you're obviously insane," Crane started to explain to her. "That man over there," he pointed to Mr. Zsasz who now sat alone at a table, eyes on Jessica, "is going to stalk you for who knows how long and then kill you, and you don't seem troubled by the fact in the least."

Shrugging Jessica replied, "It's because I'm not." Her eyes were only for the bored as she deliberated on which move to make first. "He's not the first person to want to kill me or even try to kill me. Probably won't be the last."

"That's just it!" Crane exclaimed. "He could be the last. He could be the one to succeed. And all you're doing about it is sitting here playing a game of chess with Dopey the Homicidal Clown." The statement earned him a sideways glare from Joker. He really despised the nickname. Whenever she had the chance, Jessica called him by that constantly and the others soon followed. There was not a day that went by when he failed to hear it come out of one of their lips. Later, as he always did, he would pay the man back for calling him such a thing.

Normally, he would kill someone for such a thing, but his antics in revenge proved more interesting and time consuming. If he killed them, his entertainment would slowly start to dwindle. None of the other patients proved to be of any fun. They just sat around and drooled on themselves. Crane, Jessica, Ivy, and Mad Hatter had somehow escaped that fate and are drug free. A strange coincidence considering they were probably, including himself, the most dangerous people in the asylum. Jessica may not be on the level as the others, but she was slowly climbing the ladder and proving herself to be a formable opponent. Wonderment of what the young woman would be like outside of the asylum, now that she was considered insane, crossed through his mind. It was pushed away when she actually managed to claim a piece of his from the bored. It was only a pawn, but it was the first time she had managed such a feat.

"What about the other patient?" Jessica asked changing the subject. Crane just shook his head. She was making it obvious that she could care little if the man, now licking his lips awaiting his prey to make her move, had intentions of the murderous kind toward her. "Do you know anything about them?"

Once again Crane shook his head. "Ivy was supposed to check them out. She hasn't come back yet so I don't know anything. Whoever it was must have caught her attention so the new patient is obviously male. I don't expect to see her for a while. She'll have to 'show' him around." Throwing air quotes around the word show, he made her true attentions clear.

"Sex is icky," stated Jessica in an overly childish voice. For reasons unknown to Crane and Mad Hatter, Joker burst into a fit of laughter and Jessica joined in. They brushed it off as some form of an inside joke.

Only Ivy and Joker were privy to the information that Jessica was once a prostitute that worked the streets in the Narrows. Ivy had come to the knowledge from Croc. It was obvious where Joker had learned the information. The young woman did not like to broadcast her employment before she landed herself in Arkham. To do so would be, for a lack of a better word, insane. Most of the men in the asylum, those that were not patients and the ones lucky enough not to be drugged to the state any vegetarian would love, would have taken advantage of the fact. The less people knew about her the better. She was just gladdened that the two had not decided to inform others of her past.

Though Ivy shown a vast amount of ill intent toward the girl and had such an animosity toward her that even Jessica had not failed to notice, she would not tell Jessica's dirty little secret. It was best, she knew, not to do so for it would only lead to trouble for the girl and for herself as well. Men sneaking into their shared room at the dead of night is not what she wanted. The reasoning behind Joker not telling was unknown, and Jessica was not about to question it. To do so would be very foolish and she no longer wanted to be known as the simple one as she once was.

Glancing between the laughing pair Crane decided it was time to ask the question that had been on his mind since Jessica's arrival. "How was it you two came to meet?"

There it was. That dreaded question Jessica did not want to answer. Lucky for her, she did not have to answer. Unlucky for her, Joker decided that he was going to be the one to answer truthfully. "Snow White was a whore."

"Hm," was all Crane said.

After that the subject dropped from the conversation thanks to Mad Hatter who had quickly changed the topic back to the new patient sensing the girl's unease. For that, Jessica sent him a weak smile in appreciation, one that he happily returned while patting her knee under the table. Finally having something to care about again gave him something to do besides wallowing in the self pity that had consumed him for years. He looked toward the girl as a daughter and enjoyed her company greatly. They're time alone together was spent with him reading the works of Lewis Carroll. Currently they were on _Through the Looking_ _Glass_ and nearly half way through it. After that one was finished he planned on reading novels by other authors that she had failed to read while she was a child.

Mad Hatter was not the only one that enjoyed their time together, Jessica did so as well. To have one of her childhood dreams come true felt better than she had ever expected. Somehow she felt lightened about it all. One of the things on her to do list had been checked off, and made all the better from the fact that Mad Hatter had an amazing voice. Normally, it lulled her to sleep but she had been keeping the habit of staring at the magnificent artwork randomly placed on the pages through out the story. If she just focused on the man's voice, as she had done in the past, she would soon find herself being shaken awake by him. No longer did that happen since she was studying the pictures.

A question had been itching Jessica's mind. Though she tried her best to ignore it, it was starting to distract her causing her to lose the game of chess she was currently playing. Placing all blame on the question and not her skills made her feel slightly better that she was being defeated by a man that wore clown make up. When the itch turned into a burning desire she relented and released it from her mind and lips. "How did he get caught?"

"Who?" inquired Crane though he already knew the answer.

"Mr. Zarz, Pizzazz or whatever his name is," she waved dismissively to the man still steadily staring at her.

"He was caught right after he murdered someone in the Narrows. Didn't even have time to make a new mark on his arm."

"Where do you get all your information from?" That question came from Mad Hatter. It was a question that had been bugging him ever since the man had come to join the patients in Arkham rather than treat them, though his treatment was more of a form of torture than helpful. Crane seemed to always have an endless knowledge of the happenings of the outside world even though he had never stepped one foot outside of the fence that lined the building.

"Here and there," Crane answered vaguely making it obvious that he was not going to release the source of his data. Coming to the conclusion that that was all he was going to get out of the man, Mad Hatter shrugged it off.

Upon hearing that the murder took place in the Narrows, Jessica's interested increased drastically. "Do you know who he killed?" Silently she prayed that it was no one she cared for. Considering how few of those there were and how many people resided in the Narrows, it was a slim chance she even knew the person. That knowledge still did not ease the knot in her gut.

Scanning his brain Crane tried to recollect the name that had been given to him from his source. "It was a young woman, about the same age as you," he indicated toward Jessica. I believe her name was Holly."

In an instant Jessica's heart dropped into her stomach. She felt ill. Holly was such a rare name. All her life she had only met one Holly. "What was her last name?" The words were so heavy in her mouth she nearly choked on them. Her tongue felt as if it were lead making it all the harder to form the five simple words.

"Hm." Racking his brain for the knowledge Crane came to realize one thing. "I don't remember."

With much effort Jessica was able to move her tongue for one last question. "Was it Robinson?"

A wide smile in recognition grew on Crane's face. "It was!" The smile was quickly lost to a frown. "How did you know that?"

The inquiry was lost on Jessica's now deaf ears. All around her disappeared as she felt her world shatter around her. One of the very few people she had given a piece of her heart to was gone. Holly was the first true loss she had suffered. Even her mother leaving was not as bad. There was always a chance she would see the dreaded woman once again, but not Holly. Holly was gone forever and could never come back.

Dread and hopelessness drastically filled the girl. No longer having the ability to feel her body, it had gone completely numb, she never felt the tears spill down her cheeks and land with a silent splash on the table before her. With a blurred vision she turned to look at the man that caused her newfound suffering.

With a smirk on his face, Mr. Zsasz sat alone at his table staring at her. It was as if he knew the pain that he caused her. That the torturous tears slowly cascading down her face were caused by him and him alone. Gazing at the man a new emotion filled Jessica. It was an emotion she had come to know well. One that seemed to fill her more often than others. Rage. A steady stream of rage was consuming her. It started in her mind and slowly fell down like a waterfall pooling at the bottom of her feet and working its way up.

As it gradually made its way up her body she started to see red. The red she tried so hard to push back, but not at that moment. The willpower she had accumulated over the past few months started to dissipate. No longer did she want to hold it back and had no reason to. The man, Mr. Zsasz, was not worth anything to her or anyone for that matter. If she let the red consume her, he would get what was coming to him. He would feel her wrath. What she did not expect was the red turning to black.

All recollection of the events that transpired would be forever blank in her mind. A large hole in her memory. Something else had taken over her body. A monster that had been lurking in the dark hollows of her mind. It was the very thing she had been conversing with in every reflective surface that she had come into contact with. A piece of her she never realized was something more than that. Another persona.

Some say that madness is hereditary. They say that the children inherited it from the mothers and fathers that birthed them. Jessica would argue that it was not true, but she would be wrong. In her case it was. If she had tried hard to recall her childhood she would have come to realize that. It was her mother's deepest and darkest secret, and one Jessica could no longer ask her about. The secret had been kept with the silence of her father and the massive amounts of medication the many doctors had prescribed to her mother. A secret that Jessica would never be enlightened on.

Her mother had a disease. The very same that was currently taking over the young woman. Out of the two children that had been spawned from the woman, Frankie had been the lucky one. He had contracted more of his genes from their father. That fact left him sane unlike his younger sister.

For years, Jessica had somehow kept her other self at bay, or so she believed. There were large gaps in the memories of her childhood, from before she had been induced with the drugs the mob had fed her. Having her father tell her that they were just blackouts and nothing more led the little child to believe just that. That knowledge was still imprinted in her mind at that moment. If others had not been there to witness her lapse in time, she would have continued to believe so until her dying day.

When Jessica's eyes rolled in the back of her head, only the veined whites of her eyes showing, Mad Hatter feared the girl was going to lose consciousness. Getting out of his chair and gripping her shoulders tightly to ensure that she did not fall over onto the floor Mad Hatter had the privilege to fully experience Jessica's transformation. Standing fully in front of her, feet spread slightly apart for leverage in case she did fall, he watched as her lips curled grotesquely into a semblance of a smile. Traveling upwards his eyes met her.

No longer were the white of them showing, but the striking storm gray ones. There was a much different look to them, a different feel. They gave the man the chills. It was just unnatural the look he was receiving from the girl. A small voice in the back of his head commanded him to release the girl and he gladly did so going back into his seat. All the while he did that, whoever it was in control of Jessica's body, watched his every movement.

Once Mad Hatter was seated the girl's eyes darted down to the chess bored. "Silly girl," she muttered under her breath. "She should have known she was going to lose. All her moves were foolish." The three men took note of Jessica's transformation. Two were unnerved while the third was very interested.

"It's your move, Snow White," Joker, the interested party, piped in his nasally whiney voice.

Her eyes darted up to the man with a flicker of annoyance in them. "I am _not_ your Snow White," she hissed in a slow drawn out tone.

A grin crept up on Joker's face. "Then, who are you?"

"Call me what you want, names are unimportant. Just don't call me by that ridiculous name. It's childish and I will _not_ be treated as such. I am not, _her_." The last word was said with such vehemence one could not deny her dislike for her "better" half.

"Doesn't stop the fact that it's your move," informed Joker. He was rather enjoying the new persona of Jessica's.

"The game," she started while standing, swiping her arm across the board and scattering the pieces to the ground, "has been canceled on account that the sniveling coward needs me to do something she can't handle."

Running her slim fingers through her hair she made her way to Mr. Zsasz. As she neared him the cocky smile that had been on his face slowly started to vanish. This was not something he was accustomed to. His victims were not supposed to willingly walk up to him. The girl was strange, that much he could see, but to actually confront him, for the second time, was completely insane. He almost snorted at the thought. Of course, she was insane; she was in an insane asylum, after all.

With catlike grace, she casually made her way to him. After studying the girl for less then a half an hour, Mr. Zsasz noticed the change. Before, when Jessica had walked away from him, her steps were clumsy appearing more like caught falls than actually walking. The woman was now gliding toward him with ease, her hips swaying with each step. There was such confidence in this woman that had not been evident before. Even the smile placed on her lips was different. Instead of the once innocent, almost childlike smile, that was there before was now cruel and near sensual.

Mr. Zsasz did not know what to make of the change. What he did know was it was making him highly uncomfortable. The blatant boldness of the girl was just too much for him to handle. She was supposed to be frightened of him, wanting to run as far from him as possible. Instead, she was making her way toward him with ease, not a single drop of fear radiating off of her.

Reaching the man she instantly straddled his waist waiting for no invitation. Mr. Zsasz's hands instantaneously gripped the edges of his seat knuckles turning a pasty white. "You're here to kill, Jessica, hm?" Her face was merely an inch away, her small button nose nearly touching his pointed one. "Well," she released a snort and then continued, "you're going to try at least. I won't let that happen. I share this body with her and if she dies, I die. I'm not ready to die just yet. I'm only twenty after all. There is just so much more for me to do in this life, with this body."

Bravado in the form of a smirk revealed itself on the man's face. It quivered slightly around the corners on his mouth out of a small amount of fear he was feeling. The woman sitting on top of him was not the one that Dr. Reece had described to him. From what she had said, Jessica was a weak and pathetic creature and would never do such a bold thing.

After studying the man for a moment she elongated their one-sided conversation. "You fancy yourself as a hunter. Like to prey on people. Sneak up on them while they are defenseless and then slaughter them when they are at their most vulnerable." Leaning down she inhaled deeply at the crook of his neck and worked her way up to his ear. "If you're such a great hunter, why do I smell fear on you, hm?" The question was whispered in his left ear. "It's such a sweet smell. One you've probably smelled dozens of times as have I. I just _love_ it!"

Still sitting at their own table, her three male companions watched the scene before then with the utmost interest like members of an audience watching a play. But what they were witnessing was far more interesting then any play that could be acted out on stage. It was not fiction but reality, and sometimes reality is more entertaining then any fantasy world ever imagined.

Joker's interest in the happenings was far more keen then the others. They looked upon it with faces twisted grotesquely in horror, where as he watched it with pure joy. This new persona that had revealed itself in Snow White's body was very different than the girl that had presented herself before. She was wicked, cold, and seemingly unafraid of anything and everything around her. Even the way she walked and spoke had changed. The graceful way her hand had swept the pieces off of the board sending them scattering to the floor was much like the movement on uses with a knife when cutting a throat of an enemy. She, whoever "she" was, was a natural killer and most likely very insane. He admired that in a woman.

Still whispering in his ear, she asked him, "Is that what she smelled like when you killed her? Was the fear just radiating off of her in such strong waves that it nearly consumed you in ecstasy? I would normally not care about such a thing, but your last victim was a friend of Jessica's. You made her cry and hurt her very badly. I don't like when she cries. Jessica is like a little sister to me, though she failed to realize that I even existed up until a few months ago. I have always taken care of her to the best of my abilities. Whenever she was in dire need, I would come out. It's been a while since I've come out though. Drugs prevented that from happening. But no longer. There is _nothing_ to stop me now.

"You hurt my dear little sister. I don't like people hurting her. I _won't_ have it!" she hissed in his ear words dripping with venom as it did from the fangs of a snake. Such hate was instilled into every syllable that it felt as if his ear was blistering from heat of them. "You hurt Jessica, and now, I'm going to hurt you." If possible, his grip on the chair tightened, the bones of his knuckles threatening to tear the thin skin. "Just remember, this is nothing personal, I'm just teaching you a lesson. But if you continue your pursuit of ill intent toward Jessica I will make it personal. If it becomes personal, I will hunt you down and kill you achingly slow, and that's something that you wouldn't like very much. But for now, I'll just take this."

With her teeth she gripped the top of his ear. Biting down as hard as she could, piercing the cartilage, she slowly started to pull down on it. The satisfying sound of flesh tearing reached her ears and the salty taste of blood played with her tongue. An immense pleasure coursed through her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Mr. Zsasz's scream racked against her body. His long scraggily nails dug into her hips as he attempted to push her off of him only causing him more pain. If her mouth had not been occupied she would have laughed hysterically at the man.

When a strong arm wrapped around her torso and ripped her away from the man her enjoyment was cut short. Kicking, biting, and clawing she tried desperately to get away from the man. All her attempts were futile and she cursed Jessica's still weak body. She was really going to have to work on that if she was going to start to take over once again. A weak body got one killed and she was not about to die because of something simple like that. No, it was either old age or she was going to go out in a flaming glory of bullets.

Dr. Reece's face came into view and was instantly met with the bottom of her foot. A loud crunch was heard and the woman giggled insanely knowing that she had broken the bimbo's nose. Several more orderlies came after that and one had a needle. Something inside of her snapped. She was not going to get stuck with that thing. Needles were what had kept her lying dormant in that body before. Now that she was free once again, she was _not_ going to let anyone drug "her" body up again.

No matter how hard she fought it only ended up with the prick of the needle in whatever flesh was available for them to inject the drug into her system. If she could have she would have burst into a fit of laughter at the revelation that the drug was only a paralyzer. Her eyes were still open and mind still alert of the things around her.

Head rolling to the side, she was forced to look only at the only door of the Rec Room. In its wake stood Ivy and a man that she had come to recognize only from Jessica's memories that filled their shared mind. Croc. He was decked out in patient's garb signaling that he was the other new patient that Crane had previously mentioned before. Seeing the red headed woman hanging from his arm sent a pang of emotion through her. One she did not recognize and had never experienced before.

She would have plenty of time to comprehend that emotion later. At that moment, the orderly that had tore her away from her game was dragging her to Solitary Confinement, or so Reece said in a nasally tone compliments of her now broken nose. Her vision was torn away from the couple when the man flipped her onto his shoulder and she was forced to stare at the white of his shirt. It annoyed her greatly. The least they could have done was at least close her eyes for her considering she lacked the ability to do so herself.

As they passed the pair, she heard Croc mutter, "Princess," and another twinge of emotion coursed through her. It made her come to realize that Jessica was slowly starting to take over and it was not her emotions but that of the girl of the same body.

A stream of curses echoed in her head as the blackness that she had come accustomed to started to come over her. In mere moments, Jessica would regain control of the body and mind, leaving her to dwell in the darkest caverns of their mind. At least she knew that she had the ability to take control once again. Something she planned on doing many times more. It was her body too and she be damned if she was going to sit and rot into nothingness. Besides, Jessica always seemed to get herself into trouble and her help would be needed.

Like she told Mr. Zsasz, Jessica was her little sister and she was a very overprotective big sister. She would never allow harm to befall the girl again. God help anyone that hurt the girl. She would kill them and anyone that got in her way. A river of blood will follow in her wake as she hunted them down. A river of blood and her own bloody footprints after walking through it.


	26. Degradation

Days, weeks, months passed by and Jessica knew little of them. The only knowledge she had of the outside world was when the doctors came into the little white padded room for a session. Having been forced to take drugs to "help" her, she was once again back to the sniveling coward before her first encounter with Joker. All of the doctors, Michaels especially, enjoyed her that way, as did many of the male orderlies as well though their intentions were of a different kind. Without her big sister able to come out, Jessica no longer had anyone to protect her while locked into solitary confinement, and how much she needed her.

Before they had started to give her the medication Jessica had had long conversations with her "big sister", or so she liked to call herself. From what Crane, she had refused to see any doctor at first but him, had explained to her it was rare for split personalities to actually converse with each other. Most went about never knowing that the other existed, thinking nothing more that their lapse in memory were nothing but black outs. Jessica liked knowing that her big sister was there, that she would never truly be alone in the world. There would always be someone there, though inside of her, that would watch over her for even when Jessica was asleep, Big Sister was there looking after her.

Solitary confinement was hell for the now twenty-one year old woman, unbeknownst to her. It was even more so now that she no longer had someone to talk to. Left all alone in her solidarity, she had little else to do but sleep, and that is what she did. When ever she felt the slightest touch of sleep overcome her, she would lay on the single twin sized bed provided to her and succumb to the urge. The only time she was up and about were during her sessions, when it was time to eat, and the short time she had in the bathroom, one having not been provided for her in the overly white thickly padded room. The best days were when she was allowed to shower, which were rare and far between. Every shower that she took marked on month that she had been in that room. So far, she had counted nine.

Nine long tedious months of nothing but sleep. Not being able to do anything she had lost much of her appetite and had started to lose weight once again. She was not back to the grotesquely skinny that she was, but if she stayed any longer, it would eventually go back to that. All the hard work she had done to gain and maintain a healthy body weight had gone out the window the day that she entered that room.

A deep grudge of that room had built inside of her within the endless chasms of her mind. It would avail to nothing since she had turned back to her old self. The hatred she felt would just build inside of her until the day that she could release it. That day would be the day that she no longer took the medicine she had been forcefully given. An anxiousness of that day was rising inside of her slowly becoming a tidal wave ready to wash over her at any given moment.

There were only two emotions Jessica had been reduced to. Fear and depression. They seemed to wash over all others and consume her mind. Fear was the most common that she felt. It came to her at all times during the day. The time it grew thickest was when one of the orderlies would walk into the room letting her know that it was no longer day but night at its darkest. Depression had overcome her very quickly. Not having the ability to see those that she called "friends" or anyone but those that snuck into her room in the dead of night had led to that. Another pinpoint of her depression was the fact that she had once again become the weak thing that she had never wanted to return to.

After pacing the room several times, Jessica sat on her bed brining her knees to her chest and resting her chin upon them. A good majority of her time was spent in this position or in the fetal position as she slept. That day was unlike any other in that room. That day, she was more excited than most. It was the day that she would finally be released from her solitude. Just the thought of being able to gaze upon something other than the overly white walls of the room she had been confined in lifted her spirits to soaring heights. All she had to do was wait for someone to open that door and tell her that she could leave.

Hours later someone actually did come into the room and do just that. As soon as the nurse, a female with mousy brown hair and dull unintelligent brown eyes, said those magic words Jessica nearly sprinted out of the room. Not taking the time to wait for the woman she made her way down the man corridors until she reached the stairway. Taking the stairs two at a time she reached the desired floor and bolted down the hallway she was all too familiar.

The first thing, she decided, she was going to do was take a shower. A couple of weeks fermenting in her own stench made that her top priority. Expecting as much, Crane had arranged for a fresh pair of cloths, a towel, and a rag which awaited her at the nurses' station closest to the shower room. Jessica reached the station in record time and grabbed the objects that sat upon the desk without pausing and continued down until she reached her destination just a few doors down.

With a speed she did not know she possessed, Jessica undressed and ran under the first shower head that she spotted. Turning it on she immediately started to scrub herself not bothering to wait for the water to warm. The better part of an hour was spent underneath the strong stream of water trying to rid herself of the dirt, sweat, and grim that had collected on the first layer of her skin. Once finished with that she moved onto her hair. She lathered, rinsed and repeated three times. Rinsing the remaining suds from her, she shut the water off and walked to where she had left her towel and clothes.

The process of drying off took less time than that of washing. Ten minutes passed and her clothes were on and she was heading out of the door running her fingers through the tangled mass on top of her head called hair. Now, it was onto her next stop. The Rec Room where the only people she knew in the place would be. It was the only place that they were allowed. Patients were no longer outside since there had been an incident of escape several years ago.

Being around recognizable faces is what she needed at the moment. Even when she was little, Jessica had had a problem with being left alone. When it was time for bed, one of her parents, mainly her father, would have to be in the room with her until she fell into a fitful slumber. After their mother had left, Frankie had watched over her, their dad having gone out most nights. Being alone was her biggest fear. It had nearly driven her to insanity when Greg had left her to go to work until he got Musket to keep her company. Taking care of the little pup had proved more time consuming then she had ever imagined, but it was a good way for the time to pass.

Entering the room, her eyes darted about to spot the familiar group. When they landed on them she immediately made her way to them. Her steps were light and quick, the same tempo her heart was beating. There was a new addition to the group, currently playing Joker in chess, but she ignored him. The only person she had eyes for that moment was Mad Hatter, the man she had adopted as a father. When she reached him she clambered into his lap, interrupting his reading, buried her face into his chest and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Sshh, sshh," he cooed gently stroking her hair, "it's alright now."

"Is he letting her touch him?" an unfamiliar male voice asked. It was a low and smooth voice. A pleasant sound on the ears.

"Yes," stated Crane dully. "She's the only one that he lets touch him without freaking out. Get used to it." From the sound of it, Crane cared little for the man that he spoke to. His tone was cold and distant void of the usual mirth that it held. Normally when Crane spoke it was as if he was making a joke of everything, not then. If Jessica had been calm she would have had time to wonder as to why, but she was not and could care less at the moment.

Several minutes passed by before her sobs turned into nothing but sniffles. Cradled against Mad Hatter's chest she listened to the sound of his heart beat and soothing voice as he read quietly to her. When he saw that she had calmed down Mad Hatter asked, "Feeling better?" A nod was the only response that he gained from her. Jessica wanted to say nothing about what had just happened having not expected it.

Feeling a pair of eyes burning a hole into the back of her head Jessica adjusted herself so that she could see who it was. Joker was staring at her with a grin that could only be described as insane enjoyment. Quickly he had taken note of her weak behavior. Having known her, if only briefly, he recognized the change back. None of the others, excluding Croc who had been shooting the young woman worried glances above Ivy's head, had met her before her admittance to the asylum. For all they knew it was just another personality change.

No longer wanting to look at the man Jessica started to scan the room. Her storm gray eyes, now a little less alive, studied all about her without really taking any of it in. One object in the room did catch her attention though. "There's a piano in here," she informed no one in particular. It was an upright piano of lightly stained wood.

"It's been here for years," Crane told her. "Patients used to play it. Music eases the mind. All the ones that could play have either been released or moved into the lower levels when their madness grew its worse."

Jessica just nodded her head in response to the newly gained information. There was only one question on her mind. "Is it tuned?"

"It should be. They still have someone come in and tune it on a regularly basis."

"Does Snow White know how to play?" Joker's voice cut across the room like a knife. It was high nasally childlike but manly at the same time, just the way Jessica remembered it.

"I do," admitted Jessica. "I had lessons since I could remember. My mother, when she was my mother, had insisted that I learn. Piano lessons were the only thing that was normal in my childhood. Music was the only way I could escape." A wistful smile appeared on her face. "My father even bought me my own piano. It was second hand, but it worked. I played it all the time."

"Hm," started Joker, "that's all fine and dandy but no one here believes you." Jessica's head slowly turned to him. The expression on her face was strained as if she were in pain. "Why don't you play a bit and prove us all wrong."

Without a word Jessica removed herself from Mad Hatter's lap and crossed the room to the piano that sat alone against the wall. It was tucked into a corner forgotten. A film of dust had collected on top of the keys. Only a few keys and a small portion of the top were void of the presence of the particle letting Jessica know just where the man had touched when tuning the instrument.

Sitting down on the stool in front of the keys Jessica did a few finger stretches her teacher had taught her. It had been many years since she had touched a piano and she feared that she had forgotten how. With her hands nearing the keys, another problem presented itself. She had no idea what to play and there was no sheet music sitting in the music rack. Of course, there would be no music. If appearances were correct, which in this case they were, it looked as if the piano had not been played in years.

Closing her eyes and resting her fingertips on the keys, Jessica thought back to the many songs she had learned. Only one had stayed imprinted on her mind. The one that she had had to memorize, the rest staying safely on the sheets of paper that had been provided to her. Time after time she had played this song until it was near perfection as she could manage. With the gentlest of touches she pushed down on the keys hitting the first series of notes. The hammers struck the strings hiding underneath the top releasing the desired sound and filling the once quiet room.

No longer thinking and letting her fingers do all the work Jessica played with eyes closed. All was lost while she played. The patients, the walls, the building itself vanished from her mind as she slowly immersed herself in the music. Nothing else mattered but the notes and the movements of her feet as she placed them on the pedals at the precise moment.

"Piano Sonata Number Fourteen in C-sharp minor by Ludwig van Beethoven," the man who the others had come to know as Riddler piped. "It is, also, called the _Moonlight_ _Sonata_. There are a total of three movements and she is playing the first." His tone was dull and informative. "It is believed that Beethoven played this song at night to a blind girl earning it the name the _Moonlight_ _Sonata_."

Very annoyed Crane glared at the man. Every day since he had arrived, courtesy of Batman, he had provided some form of useless information. Though some of the facts had been interesting to learn others had just been things of little importance that none seemed to care about. Before he could comment on the random piece of information that had fallen from Riddler's lips Joker cut him off, "Shut up!" he hissed in a low tone glaring at the man across from him.

The game of chess they had been previously playing went forgotten when Jessica had started to play. Closing his eyes Joker listened to the music. It was beautiful. Long had it been since he had heard such sounds coming from the dancing fingers of someone that actually had talent.

Shocked Crane gazed at the man who now had a small smile of enjoyment on his lips. Joker liked music? That was something he would have never guessed. Music was creation, love, and order. Joker was a man of destruction, hate and chaos, the complete opposite of what music represented. To fathom that such a man could find pleasure in listening to such a thing was hard and nearly impossible.

Apparently he was not the only one to find this revelation startling. Riddler's eyebrows were cocked up high on his forehead nearly touching the line where his red-ish orange hair stopped. Out of the two men, Riddler was the one to shrug it off. To each his own. What Joker liked was his business and his business alone. He could not blame the man for liking such a thing though. It was truly one of Beethoven's best works in his opinion.

Near the end of the sonata the notes turned sour when the cocking of a gun overshadowed it. All attention was diverted toward the girl. Blocking their view of her was Mr. Zsasz who was holding a homemade, or asylum made, weapon of some sort. The one holding the gun was an older gentleman and he had it placed firmly on Mr. Zsasz's left temple.

"Come near my daughter again and I'll kill you," the man educated Mr. Zsasz bringing a different kind of smile on Joker's lips.

At long last he gets to meet Daddy Dearest. Well, he was not sure if the man was going to be willing to meet him, but that mattered little to Joker. He would introduce himself none-the-less even though the man, a cop, knew exactly who he was. It was only polite to introduce oneself to the father of a girl he had once paid for a night of fun.

Mr. Zsasz turned to meet the gaze of Jessica's father. "I highly doubt you will, _cop_." It was made evident that the man was a cop considering he was still in his uniform.

"I can tell by the way that you said 'cop' that you think that fact would stop me from shooting you dead on the spot. It won't. I _will_ kill you and not think twice. Now," Frank said while tightening his forefinger on the trigger of his standard police issued forty caliber Glock, "go sit down before my finger slips and I shoot you." Sensing movement, Frank's eyes darted around the room to some of the patients, follows of the man he had the gun aimed at, making their way toward him in stealth. "I wouldn't move if I were you," he told them. "The bullet I bury in this man's head has nine more friends just waiting to get their asses slapped so they can run head first into the next idiot that decides to make a move."

A snort released itself from Crane. "I see where Jessica gets her witty dialogue from," he muttered to his companions.

"Mr. Jones!" Reece's voice, high and screechy, called out indignantly to the man. "Weapons are prohibited inside of this building! You should have checked it as soon as you walked through the door!"

Frank rolled his eyes visibly at the woman's words. "Go sit down!" he commanded Mr. Zsasz.

Having a gun pointed at his head made it seem like a very good idea to do as the man ordered. Inching slowly backwards, never taking his eyes off of Frank, he made his way back to the seat he had been sitting in before Jessica had lost herself in the music. It had been the perfect opportunity to kill the woman considering her attention, along with all the others, was diverted. It upset him greatly that his act of vengeance had been thwarted.

Many months of waiting for his ear to heal and the stitches to be removed had made his thoughts turn to revenge. It was now his greatest and utmost desire. No one had ever dared hurt him as Jessica had. The fact that it had been a woman made it even harder to conceive. Women were natural prey being the weak beings that they were. They were not supposed to be strong enough to fend for themselves. He detested the idea that one of their breed had actually been able to harm him.

After the man had taken his seat, Frank lowered the weapon simultaneously flipping the safety on and then holstered it. With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to Jessica on the piano stool. "It was very beautiful," he spoke in a hushed tone, "just like when you performed it on stage. I'm sorry to have ruined it, again."

Jessica smirked, eyes diverting to her hands. "It's okay," she reassured him. "Your reasoning this time was just as good as the first."

They were speaking of the time Jessica had performed on the stage Gotham's Symphony Hall. Just being asked had been the greatest honor and joy of her life. She had been twelve at the time. The song that had been chosen for her was the Moonlight Sonata. Nearly everyday she had practiced all three movements until she had them memorized. When she had been nearly finished with the first act, Frank had an outburst and interrupted the performance. Her mother had chosen that moment to inform him of her affair with his partner, who had been present at the time. Jessica had sat frozen on the stage as she watched her father and his partner being carted off by fellow officers for fighting. The next day, her mother had left and her father had started to drink spiraling himself into debt leading into their current predicament.

"I tried to visit earlier," Frank explained, not know what else to say. "You were locked in solitary so I wasn't allowed. They told me that you attacked another patient. I'm guessing it was the prick that just tried to kill you."

"Yeah, but technically it wasn't me who attacked him."

"Big Sister, right?" Jessica's eyes widened in shock as she gazed up at her father. He smiled lightly at her. "I know all about her. You're more like your mother than you'll ever know. She had the same problem, though I don't know if I would consider yours a problem considering the timing when she decides to come out. You always seemed to know about her as well, your mother never knew about her other selves. She had three including her."

"Since I've been taking this medication, I've been remembering things," Jessica elucidated. "I guess I tried to block them all out. I remember what one of them did to Frankie and tried to do to me. I'm glad you came home early that day."

"That was the only day that I ever laid a hand on her. Afterwards, I kept telling myself that it wasn't her, but seeing the bruises that I had caused still broke my heart."

Reece stepped toward the conversing father and daughter. Just her presence alone interrupted their talk. "Jessica, it's time to take your medication," she informed the girl hovering over her. There was what seemed like a professional smile on her face, but Frank knew otherwise. Years on the force and interrogating prisoners had taught him to look deeper into facial expressions. A hint of malice and sadistic pleasure hung around the corners of her mouth and briefly flashed in her eyes. The man knew that the woman did not like his daughter, but as to the reasoning why he could only speculate. For some reason, having been in her office, he had a feeling that the malicious intent had something to do with the man with the clown painted face that was gazing at the group intently.

Jessica looked up at the woman with vacant eyes trying to register what she had told her. A few moments later it seemed to click. "O-okay," she timidly said. The medication was something that Jessica did not like. Not only did it drive Big Sister away, but it muddled her mind as well. Her thought process had become much slower. Another side effect was that she had started to remember things in her past that she wanted to forget. No longer were the times when the mob had her drugged up a black hole in her memory. They were perfectly clear as if they had just happened moments ago instead of years ago. If it would have been her choice, she would have stopped taking the medicine of the spot, but it was not her choice and she was practically being force fed the stuff.

In the beginning, Jessica had refused to take the offending stuff and just spat it out. It became harder to do so when they crushed the pills up and started to mix it into her food. After it had gained its hold in her system Jessica had become more compliant to take the stuff. She had become more compliant on every aspect. Refusal was now a burden to her and she thought it best just to do as she was told. Besides, they told her the medication would help her. It was not like the drugs the mob had used for her. She was not totally incapacitated. Her mind was just a little slower and things were becoming hard to register. Attentiveness was no longer something she could do and she got distracted easily by the simplest of things.

Once on her feet Jessica followed Reece to the medicine distribution station just several yards outside of the room. A few moments passed with Reece chatting to one of the nurses about things Jessica cared little for and her attention started to wonder. Many things passed through her mind, but none were of any importance. They went along the lines of the time, the color of the sky and why she was in there. Though memories of her childhood had started to come back, her recently made ones had started to dwindle.

When Reece stepped toward her with a little white cup in her hand, Jessica's attention diverted back to the woman. A smile of child like innocence appeared on the girl's face and she accepted the cup offered to her with a near excitement. Bringing the cup to her lips Jessica flung her head back and swallowed the two white pills that had been given to her.

Watching the girl's throat contact as she swallowed Reece could not help but smile. The medicine that she had Jessica take was experimental and had never been fully tested. What she was doing now was considered a trial and it was working to her liking. Side effects of the drug included body losing control of itself, shakes, and paranoia. All those Jessica did not receive. What she did gain from the medicine was the worst side effect and one that would stop immediate treatment if shown. Degradation of the mind.

Jessica was showing signs of such, but Reece was not going to put a stop to the medication. Why should she? With Jessica's mind reverting back to a child like state it made the girl more compliant and less of a threat. Joker would soon lose interest in the girl and his attention would then be fully on Reece, as she so desperately wanted.

"You can go now," Reece told Jessica once she had checked to make sure the girl had swallowed the pills.

With a childlike gait Jessica walked away and back into the familiar setting of the Rec Room. Once in there she made her way back to the piano stool where her father was still seated. Together they sat in silence until he broke it. "I have to go to work," he said. "I'll make sure to visit you again as soon as I can."

As he stood up a panic settled itself inside of Jessica. With desperation she gripped the sleeve of his shirt tightly. "Don't leave, Daddy!" she pleaded frantically. "I don't like it here! I don't want to stay here anymore! Please, take me with you!"

By her tiny wrist he removed her hand. "I can't do that." Gazing into her eyes he saw the fear and panic she felt. Her decline had increased dramatically and would continue to do so the longer that she took the medication. "Jessica," he started slowly, "do you know why you are here?" She shook her head, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering.

That really was not the answer he wanted. Something was very wrong with his daughter and he had a hunch that Reece had something to do with it. After gently reassuring Jessica he would be back later, he left the room in search of the woman in question. He had some questions and he expected answers.

Watching her father leave the room tied Jessica's stomach in a knot. Tears welled in her eyes, her throat contracted making her feel as if she was choking, and her bottom lips quivered uncontrollably. He was leaving, just as her mother had left, and was not going to come back. Her eyes never left his retreating back fearing it would be the last time that she saw him.

"Something's wrong with her," Ivy pointed out stating what they all knew.

As time passed the degradation of Jessica's mind would become more and more evident to those around her. If she was not careful it could prove to be fatal for her. Weakness could not be shown in such a place or others would take advantage of such a thing. Those that were weak became prey and were hunted down resulting in their untimely death. Vulnerability was radiating off of her in waves at that moment. That was not the Jessica the small group had come to know. Though she was not the brightest of them, she knew enough of the world to not show weakness as she was doing.

It was quickly decided by Ivy that all would watch over her at all moments of the day. Night would be the hardest considering that they would be locked in their room. Croc and Mad Hatter had quickly agreed to help the woman. The other three were a little more reluctant. With harsh words and threats on their manhood, Ivy had convinced Crane and Riddler to quickly come to terms to her wishes. Joker she did not even attempt to persuade. The man would do as he wished and, though she hated to admit it, she was afraid of him. The possibility that he could kill her at any given moment and feel nothing but joy while doing it made the feeling ever stronger.

While Jessica sat on the piano stool tears spilling on her cheeks, Mr. Zsasz was watching her. A sinister smile lighting up his face. Soon, very soon, he would get what he wanted. Her death at his hands would be the most euphoric experience of his life. It would fill him with the greatest joy as he watched her bright eyes grow dim and lifeless. He would take his time with that one so that he could draw out the short time they would spend together. After her body started to cool she would become nothing but another tally on his body.

He would liberate her from her pointless existence. Free her from the world as he had freed so many others before her. When he died and met her in hell she would thank him, that he was sure of. Thank him for releasing her from the bonds of life. Life was meaningless. There was nothing to it. It was nothing but imprisonment and people were forced to live one day to the next. Liberating her would be the greatest gift he could ever offer her and the greatest gift she would ever receive from anyone.

He, Victor Zsasz, would save her.


	27. Steps

The days melded together in a blur. Nothing seemed to stand out to Jessica anymore. Everything was the same and her attention was hard to catch expect by the simplest of things. Her days were passed in the Rec Room playing the piano. After hearing his daughter play once again, Frank had brought her some of her old sheet music that she kept close to her at all times in fear that they would vanish. Music seemed to be the only thing that she could do properly those days. It was the only thing she could fully remember how to do.

As was predicted her mind slowly started to degrade itself lower and lower. Memories were lost as were faces and names that went with them. Who was once Mad Hatter had become the Reading Man. Croc became the Big Man. Riddler, who she never knew before, was dubbed the Question Man for the question mark tattoos on the top of each of his hands. Crane quickly became the Doctor and Joker was the Clown Man. Ivy had become Mommy. Simple names that any child would give to those around them.

All had been going as well as the situation would allow until Greg had appeared. Much to his heartbreak Jessica had hardly recognized him and was even frightened of him. It had ensued a large battle between him and Reece and one Reece had won. When he threatened to sue she just smiled and told him she was doing nothing wrong. Knowing it was a lie he called Norman and they were currently working a case against Arkham and Reece in particular. Greg was determined to have the woman's job.

This knowledge never reached Jessica's ears. Even if she had come to learn it, it would not affect her in the slightest. Her mind was too far gone at that point. The damage was too great and no one knew if it was reversible or not. With every fiber of his being Greg hoped that it was. If he was a religious man, he would have prayed. But he was not and found such a trivial thing useless.

Sitting on the floor with her head resting on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs to keep them in place, as Ivy brushed her now mid back length hair Jessica gazed at the wall in front of her. The Big Man was standing near by as he always did. His bulky frame took up most of the doorway he stood in to ensure no one could enter it. She liked the Big Man, he was very nice. Always smiled at her and made sure that she was safe. But when he looked at her his eyes were always sad. She wanted to know why he was so sad but feared to ask him such a thing. Being the shy girl that she was she could not bring herself to do so. The Big Man could get mad at her and she did not want that. She wanted him to keep smiling at her. He had a very nice smile.

Ivy was humming a nameless tune to her as she gently ran the brush though Jessica's hair. "Mommy?" Jessica called to the woman.

Ivy immediately stopped running the brush through her hair. Every time that the word left the girl's lips her heart was shredded open. Old wounds that had never fully healed were torn open and wept blood once again. She had, once upon a time, had a child of her own. The child had been taken from her not by death but by the hands of her father. Having been so young, just reached the legal age, and he so much older than her, the court had saw her unfit to be a mother and had ordered to give up the child to her father. That was the reason why she hated men so much. All they do is take and take never give. "Yes, Jessica," she answered her voice trembling ever slightly.

"I don't feel good," Jessica told the woman.

Reaching a hand around Ivy felt the girl's forehead. "You don't feel warm. What's wrong?"

"It's my tummy," the girl explained. "It's been bothering me. I puke in the mornings and feel sick all the time. I get dizzy and feel like I'm going to puke after I eat."

Eyes widened in horror Ivy stood up and helped Jessica up. "Me and Croc are going to go talk to the others. Why don't you just take a small nap on the bed? We'll be back in just a few minutes." Jessica nodded her head and clambered onto the bed. As soon as the girl's eyes closed Ivy dragged Croc out of the room and headed to the others in the Rec Room.

The entire way Ivy muttered intelligible things to herself. Though he could have ripped his arm from her grip at any time and demand to know what was wrong, Croc just allowed the woman to drag him along in silence. Whatever was troubling the red headed woman would be shed into light as soon as they reached their destination.

Croc was correct. After they had entered the Rec Room Ivy made her way to the others. "She's pregnant," she hissed so that only the small group could hear.

The left eyebrow of Crane's raised high on his forehead. "I thought she was on birth control per her doctor's orders."

With a chuckle Joker shook his head. He knew exactly what was going on having more contact with Reece than most. "Maggie ordered her off of the birth control. Stated that it affected the way the medicine she's been giving Snow White."

"That's a load of shit!" Ivy nearly yelled. "That fucking bitch! I know what's she's doing." The red headed woman started to pace. "We have to stop her," she insisted. "She's going to get Jessica killed." Suddenly Ivy stopped pacing. "There's something we need to take care of first." Turning to the others she said the one thing that needed to be said, "We have to get rid of it."

There was no need to explain her reasoning behind such a statement. All the others agreed with her. Well, Joker could care less either way and Riddler did not really know the girl before the change so he had no opinion in the matter. The only question that remained was who will do the deed and how?

That question sparked an argument that latest longer than they wanted. It would seem no one truly wanted to commit the deed though they all knew that it had to be done. Getting bored and annoyed with the argument Joker shot out of his chair, knocking it to the floor with a clatter. "You and your bleeding hearts!" he bellowed. "I'll do it!"

With that he stormed out of the room. All eyes in the room were on him as he left. Those that did not know what was happening wondered just what the outburst was about. The ones that were walking vegetables did not have any idea of anything and just stared at him because he was moving. Long after he was gone and the swinging doors had stopped moving their eyes stayed glued to the spot having not a clue as to what they were looking at or any recollection of why they were looking there in the first place.

Reaching Jessica's room Joker stuck his head in. He spotted the girl in question lying on their bed sleeping. Her chest raised and lowered in the slow rhythmic way that one could only accomplish during a deep slumber. "Snow White!" he called as he entered the room. When she did not respond he violently shook her until her eyes fluttered open. "Come on!" he insisted in his high childlike voice while tugging her from the bed by her wrist.

Without question Jessica got out of the bed and let the man drag her to where ever he desired to go. Still tired she had not the thought to protest. One of Joker's arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him as he led her to a destination unknown to her. "Where are we going?" she inquired as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"You'll just have to wait and see!" he excitedly answered. His excitement was contagious and Jessica soon felt the pull of joy herself.

The only reason why he would not tell her where they were going was because it had to be a surprise, she thought. That was the only explanation. In her childlike state she absolutely loved surprises. They were so much fun! Surprises were the greatest things.

When they rounded an unfamiliar corner an unsettlement filled Jessica. She was starting to not like this. Having no idea where they were or where they were headed had started to lose its excitement. The unease was not cured when she asked the Clown Man where they were going and he once again answered in the same way. Wanting badly to run she was forced to follow him because of the strong grip he had around her shoulders.

After walking for several minutes he finally stopped forcing her to stop as well. In her panic what surrounded her was lost. All she wanted was to go back to her room and sleep like Mommy told her to do. She did not want to be there with Clown Man. The smile on his face was scaring her.

"You know," he started habitually licking his lips, "you'll probably thank me for this later." Before she could register what he said he gave her back a hard shove.

If Jessica had been paying attention to her surroundings, she would have noticed that a flight of stairs stood before her. Long narrow and shrouded in darkness sitting ominously before her, but she failed to notice them. Her attention just wondered too much to think about the stairs that led to the lower levels of the asylum. The place where they kept the insane of the insane locked up in cells reminiscent to those during the medieval times.

With no time to react she was sent tumbling down the stairs. The right side of her head hit the concrete steps with a sickening crack and she lost consciousness before she reached the end. Seating himself on the top step Joker watched Jessica as she landed in an unconscious heap at the bottom of the steps. For several minutes he sat there watching until blood spilled from between her legs. With the knowledge that his work was completed, he left and headed back into the Rec Room. Someone would come by later and find her so there was no need to call for help.

And he was right. Someone did come, eventually. A dark skinned female with short curly hair cut close to her head happened to come upon the profusely bleeding young woman three hours later. It resulted in the immediate call for help and sending Jessica to the medical ward in the asylum. With the limited resources they had they checked Jessica to their fullest extent.

When they were finished they had to explain their obvious finds to Greg who had been called almost as soon as Jessica was found, he was her one and only emergency contact. Not trusting the medical doctors employed by Arkham he brought his own. A friend from work, the man could hardly refuse Greg's request.

While Adam, Greg's friend, examined Jessica Greg was forced to sit and watch, much to his dislike. Reece was present during the examination and hovered over Adam watching his every move. The question of Jessica's prescription was asked and Reece reluctantly answered the man knowing the drug was still in its experimental state. The answer earned her the best death glare she had ever received from anyone and she feared that her heart would stop dead at that moment.

"That is a very dangerous drug, Dr. Reece," Adam stated slowly and with the utmost professionalism that he could muster at that moment in time. "It should not be taken lightly as one such as yourself should know that."

Reece just jutted out her chin and held her head high. She was not going to let that man second guess her decision as a doctor. "I knew the risks," she answered.

"Then why did you give it to her? With the damage it causes the mind it could very well be the reason why Miss Jones is in her current condition. Upon first witnessing the side effects of the drug you should have immediately stopped treatment, but you did not do so. Why?"

"She was a danger to the other patients and it is the only proven medicine to work for her condition." The words reeked with lies and dripped with deception. With the corners of her mouth lifting slightly as she fought a satisfied smirk from appearing on her face the two men could see the statement for what it was.

Neither of them commented on it. Instead Adam said, "I want her off of that medication immediately." Opening her mouth to protest Reece was cut off when he raised his right hand stopping her. "There are no buts in this situation. Since Jessica has been injured it is no longer in your authority to dictate what drugs she will and will not take, it is mine. I do not want her to take the drug if it is going the results are going to make her end up back in here. I am sure that your own medical advisor will agree with me. Her prescribed birth control will be reinstated so that such a thing as this," he indicated with his forefinger to Jessica's unconscious form on the bed, "does not happen to again." Leaving no room for argument Reece was force to agree to the man's terms.

Angry that her plot had been ruined by Jessica's little tumble down a flight of stair Reece left the room in a huff. It seemed every plot that she concocted against the young woman ended up thwarted in some shape or form. Cursing Jessica's luck in the matter Reece locked herself in her office and refused to come out or take patients. The only one she would see was the one who did not even come knocking on her door. Joker's attention was diverted elsewhere, finding a few games of chess with Riddler more important and exciting than the woman.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Greg asked his friend traces of worriment lining each word. Taking her hand in his he gave it a little squeeze earning him no response. Her hand was cold to the touch.

Adam shrugged. "Only time will tell." Not one to lie, Adam told his friend what he needed but did not want to hear. "She lost a lot of blood. More than normal, but that's not what worries me. What worries me is the blow to her head. With the damage her mind and brain had previously received there is no telling what this could do to her. She might not wake up."

"She'll wake up," Greg reassured himself more than his friend. "She's a survivor. Something like this won't keep her down."

"And I hope she does," Adam responded honestly. "But," Oh, how much Greg hated buts, "another problem could present itself if she does."

"What's that?"

"With extensive usage of the drug I have heard of a rare but highly possible side effect, one I'm sure that cunt overlooked. There is a small possibility that her two personalities meld into one." Expecting horror to appear on his friends face he was unpleasantly shocked to see a smile light up Greg's face. "That doesn't frighten you?"

No, not in the least," admitted Greg. "In fact, I want it to happen. I think such an experience would be rather interesting."

The horror that should have been placed on Greg's face was now on that of his friends. "Something is terribly wrong with you. Maybe you should have ended up in here as well."

"Maybe, but lucky for me I didn't."

Not knowing what to say Adam decided it was best for him to just leave. Greg was a very nice guy but had just proven how little of the man he knew. There was an entire side of the man he had never seen before and just a hint of it had peeked out. Greg was an iceberg. Most of him hidden deep under the surface of the dark ocean, and the rest pointing high in the air for all to see. What was buried deep with in the man Adam did not want to witness. Ignorance is bliss and it was one of the few times he wanted to stay that way. A surety that if he dived under the surface of the water he would come face to face with a horrendous monster led him to believe that staying ignorant of the man was the best possible course of action.

After his friend was far from his site Greg stood up and placed a kiss on Jessica's brow. Leaving the room he went in search of the few people that knew her. Many questions were on his mind and he needed to know the true answers. All inquires he had were focused on Jessica, what affect the medicine Reece had prescribed to her had had, and what had exactly happened to lead to her falling down the stairs. For some odd reason he had a feeling Joker had something to do with it. When Jessica was in some sort of danger or already hurt Joker always seemed to be the hidden cause of it all.

With each passing step he grew nearer and nearer to the room he knew who he was searching for resided. Screams rebounded across the walls of the empty hall he traversed. The laughter of the insane dreadfully filled his ears as it bellowed out in thick waves from the floor bellow them. Never before had he noticed such sounds when he had visited so many times before. They had seemed lost upon him when he was with Jessica and who she deemed as her friends. As those sounds assaulted his ears so did a consuming blackness. Dread and hate of the place he now walked in slowly overtook him.

White walls surrounded him in a dizzily manner. As he walked they seemed to meld together and swirl around him. Nausea crept into his stomach tying it into a thick knot. Pausing momentarily so that the spell would pass he leaned himself against the cold wall. That place was horrifying. He could not fathom how anyone could get better while they resided in those halls. Jessica would not become sane if she stayed there for much longer. No, she would get worse, he feared. Getting her out was the only thing that could truly help her.

So many bad things had happened to her during her short stay and they only seemed to be getting worse with each passing day. Her mind seemed to be losing what little stability it had. Regret of ever having suggested she be taken to the place permeated his mind. But if he had not suggested the place she would have ended up in prison. That would have been much harder for the young woman. Prison was a place he highly doubted she would have survived in. The chance of someone actually succeeding in killing her was much higher than in the asylum. Arkham had been the only choice if he had ever wanted to see Jessica alive again.

With a shove Greg removed himself from the wall and proceeded to his desired destination. Drawing closer to the room the sound of Joker's cackled echoed throughout the hall. Many of the nurses, male and female, appeared unnerved at hearing the sound of the man's infamous laughter. Some shuddered as others quickened their pace. Greg did nothing but shake his head at them. Such fools they all were. It was not Joker's laugh they should fear. There was nothing to his laugh though it was filled with such malice and madness. What he was doing that caused the laughter is what the fear should come from.

Deep in thought of what questions he should ask first Greg walked through the door. His feet carried him to the precise location they knew so well. Hazel eyes darting around the table he gazed upon the faces of those he was ready to interrogate. All train of thought was lost when he glanced down at the table. He nearly burst into laughter. "Are you playing _Candy Land_?!" he asked in both shock and amazement.

Joker, Crane, Riddler, and Mad Hatter were all immersed in the battle to the finished in said game. "Chess was getting too boring," Joker answered. "There is a limited supply in games we can choose from. Crane picked it out."

"I did not!" Crane shouted indignantly.

Joker looked at the man with a hardened gaze. "Are you calling me a liar, hm?"

Greg raised his hand to stop the argument that was evidently going to happen. "Before the argument over integrity starts I would like to have my question answered. Who pushed her?" None answered. "I'm not stupid," stated Greg. "I know someone pushed her. I have a feeling I know who it is, but I want to know for sure." He turned to the one person that he knew would tell him the truth. "Nygma, who pushed her?"

Edward Nygma or Riddler to some had a compulsion to tell the truth. To ask him that question would have been considered unfair, but he knew his way around that. "Why do you presume someone pushed her down the stairs?" By asking another question he avoided having to say to tell the man who it was. "Jessica is a very clumsy girl."

A sardonic smile placed itself on Greg's lips. Before he had even asked the question there had been a feeling he would do as such. Playing such childish games was not something Greg had time to do. There were other things, albeit not as important, that he had to do that day. But he would not leave Arkham until he had the answer he was looking for. So, he tried for a more direct approach. "Was it Joker that pushed her?"

"Again, why do you presume that someone pushed her? As was previously mentioned, Jessica is a very clumsy woman and could have just tripped over her own feet sending her down the stairs."

"Or a nice hard push could do the same. Look, Nygma," Greg started rubbing his head with frustration, "you not answering me is just giving me the answer that I want. What I have learned in my experience of gathering information-"

"You mean torturing people for information," Ivy stated.

"It's the same thing," snapped Greg. He was starting to grow ever more irritated with those people. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. From my experience I have learned a couple of things. One is people always talk in the end. The second is that when people do not give me the answers that I desire right away it is because they are afraid of the person in question. By you going around the question tells me that it was Joker who pushed her. Your little game was futile. I still got the answer that I wanted."

Clapping his hands together rather loudly and obnoxiously, Joker stood up. "Bravo, Doc, bravo." The clapping ceased. "You got the answer that you wanted, like you, uh, always do. What do you intend to do with, uh, what you have found ou-tah?"

As was expected of him Greg's closed fist hit the man's jaw with all the strength he could muster. Having fought the man before Joker was pleasantly shocked that the hit was much harder than he had previously experienced before. It sent him off balance and Greg grabbed the collar of Joker's shirt with his left hand pulling the man closer to him. Joker readied himself for another blow.

What he did not expect was the harsh kiss Greg planted on the man's lips. It lasted for a second before Joker was pushed back into his chair. "I have to go," Greg informed the others. "I have other business to attend to, though not as important. I expect that all of you will watch over Jessica while she's unconscious." With that he left leaving a confused Joker along with the others.

Once Greg had left the room Riddler turned to Ivy. "Did he just…?"

Ivy nodded her head slowly, "He did," was all she could manage to say.

"Why?"

"Maybe he's Italian and that was, like, the kiss of death or something." It was a crappy explanation and she knew it, but it was the only one that she could come up with.

"Doc's not Italian," stated Joker dully. Turning back to face the table a smile appeared on his face. "Who's turn is it?!"


	28. The Healer

Six days and nights passed before Jessica opened her eyes with no recollection of where she was or what had happened. Her mind seemed to have tumbled as well when she fell down the stairs. Only small bits and pieces of what had transpired flittered through her head like wings of a butterfly. Ever so slowly she regained a little bit of herself as hours and days passed by in a dreadfully slow way. The holes of her mind seemingly filled themselves as she pulled herself back together. With each rising and falling of the sun she regained something of herself. The hours of rest, when the moon dominated the sky, brought dreams of horror and angst. Almost her mind was back to the way it was before the drug Reece had forced her to take. Almost.

When the sun ruled the sky and beat its heat upon her through the shimmering rays that passed through the single window above her bed Jessica felt a twinge of emptiness. Something was missing. A some_one _that she had grown accustomed to in their short time together. Big Sister had all but vanished and not a trace of her was left. The hot boiling mind consuming anger Jessica had felt as she poured her emotions into their shared vessel was all but nonexistent. Hollow and dead was the beating chambers of her chest, as was her mind. No longer would that being be there. The detested feeling of loneliness washed over her heart like waves over the beach at high time.

All too quickly that feeling of utter weakness came and settled into the deep pit of her stomach. Big Sister had offered Jessica her strength and the young woman had taken plenty of it. But without that entity she was left with nothing. Power that had once been there was replaced with fear. The monster of fear held her captive and there was no white knight in shining armor that could ever save her from its hideous presence. Fear had to be overcome by oneself and she did not have the strength nor the will to try and do so. Instead she was left to embrace it until the tears of self hate flowed from her eyes in thick streams staining her all too pale cheeks.

The article that Adam had read informing his friend of the harsh side effects of the drugs had a small flaw. Mistranslation. The article had originally been written by a Hindu scientist. It had leaked on the internet leaving whoever so chose to translate it. Though, most of the translation was correct the translator, whoever that might have been, had misinterpreted a few things incorrectly. One of the major being the side effects. What had been "one or all personalities disappearing" had become "the converging of personalities". How they made that mistake, no one knows, but no one took the time to fix it either and so it stayed as it was.

Never understanding what the medicine had truly done Greg was left to watch the woman he cared deeply for cry helpless throughout the passing days. The sight of her disheveled form tore him from the inside out. With each tear that fell from her eyes he felt as if a piece of him went with it. Two weeks of such a thing and he could hardly stand it any longer. "Jessica," he called softly to the young woman when the tears seemed to finally cease their nearly endless flow.

Jessica looked up at him sniffling. The normally swirling storm gray eyes of hers seemed dull and lifeless. A response was not possible for her. To open her mouth would just ensue more tears to flow. So, she sat staring at him sniffling waiting for him to speak.

"Jessica," he said her name in a near whisper. Standing from the chair next to her bedside he seated himself on the bed and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "You can't keep doing this. You're going to have to get out of this bed and this room eventually. I'm sure you don't want to stay here for the rest of your life. This place is horrible, no one in their right mind would want to."

"But I'm so weak now," she answered her voice trembling so greatly it was hard to form the words. "I'm back to the way I was. I can't go back out there, they'll kill me!" She shook her head. "I was only strong because of her. Now, she's gone and I'm back to being stupid pathetic Princess."

A twinge of anger pulled at the invisible strings of Greg's mind at the way she belittled herself. "You were not strong because of her, you were already strong. The life that you were forced to live made you into that person. You don't need her, you never needed her, you never needed her, just thought that you did. That strength that you experienced was from you and you alone."

Jessica released a breath of air that was supposed to resemble a laugh. "I don't believe you," she told him while shaking her head. A question had been burning in the back of her mind ever since she had awakened. She never asked it for her time was mostly spent wallowing in self pity. "Greg, why did he push me down the stairs?" The fact that Joker had pushed her down the stairs had been the clearest point in her memory.

A heavy sigh fell from Greg's lips. He had been hoping that the question would never be asked, but it had been and now he had to answer it. "You were pregnant."

At the sound of the past tense Jessica's eyes widened. She had been pregnant but no longer. Relief washed through her in cascading waves. In her eyes she was unfit to be a mother and would never be able to handle such a thing. Having lost the child was a good thing to her. But why, at the same time, did she feel the pain of loss?

She did not want a child. They were selfish little creatures that wanted everything but gave back nothing. Crying and screaming they wrangled people into giving them their undivided attention. Little children were the worst. All of them seemed starved for attention though they were supplied amply with it. It seemed as if they needed the attention of everyone, even strangers eyes upon them, or they felt neglected. When they grew into their teenage years, they screamed words of hatred at the people that did nothing but love them. They deliberately disobeyed their parents just to see their reaction. All of them believe them to be invincible and did anything that they pleased.

No, she did not want a child. To be a mother she would have to be patient and understanding and Jessica felt she lacked those qualities. It was not only that that kept her from wanting a child but the fear that it would turn out like her, as she had with her mother. Though her other persona had been helpful, not everyone could be or would be that lucky. She would not want any creature to be doomed to the same fate that she had been. Living in a world of nothing but the mad and sick.

Before she could feel any more sentiment of losing a child she had failed to realize was growing inside of her she pushed the thought away. Instead she thought of the things she had lost and feared losing. One of the things she feared losing was sitting next to her on the bed running comforting fingers through her hair. With longing in her eyes she gazed up at him and he saw what he felt. She wanted to leave that place and never see it again. The only obstacle obstructing her way was a petty blond haired silver eyed woman. Reece.

Both knew trying to convince the woman to let Jessica go was futile. No matter how much money Greg donated to her pockets she would never release her. There was nothing more in this world that Reece wanted more than to keep Jessica under her "care", except Joker of course. The fact that the younger woman had to answer to Reece made the woman feel empowered. Drunk with that power she decided that it was best for the world if Jessica stayed there. Most disagreed with the woman and wished for the young woman's release. Sadly, those people had to answer to the tyrant and could not state their opinions without feeling the harsh lash of her wrath.

Being in the hospital did not bother Jessica. What bothered her was that she felt she was getting worse instead of better. The people were nice, most of them, and it was free room and board, something she had never experienced before. But slowly the monotony of it all was driving her to the darkest brink of insanity. With each passing day she was falling farther and farther into the deep pits of the hell that was her mind. So deep she had fallen she feared she would never be able to make her escape.

"Jessica," Greg called stopping her fall and lending her a helping hand out of the pit. Her once glazed over eyes returned to the almost awed like attentiveness he was used to. "You have to leave this room. You can't stay here for the rest of your life."

Heaving a great sigh, Jessica replied, "I know. I would love to, but I know that I can't. I'll have to go out there sooner or later and face them." Greg suggested the former to the latter. "You're not going to go with me, are you?" asked Jessica with downcast eyes.

Greg shook his head though he knew that Jessica could not see it. "This is something you have to do by yourself, like getting your necklace back from Joker." Just the mere mention of the fact that Joker still had her necklace captive around his neck sparked anger within her. A rather large and unnerving appeared on her face. Knowing what it meant, Greg could not help but smile himself. She was going to be just fine. Woman seemed to have the ability to jump right back from any situation given to them. Just let them cry their tears, have their release, and they will be back to normal in mere seconds. He always admired that gender quality of theirs.

Leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a farewell Greg made his way toward the exit of the building. Eyes with a rekindled flame watched his retreating back. No, Greg was not retreating and Jessica would not describe it as such. He was simply leaving her to do what needed to be done. Getting her necklace back. It became top priority in her mind. There would be no more laying in a bed crying in self pity. None of that had room in her anymore. She would save her tears for something worth while. For what she saw as an actual loss.

Having no knowledge that a creature grew inside of her she did not consider such a thing a true loss. Maybe, if she had known about it, Jessica would feel differently. But she did not know about it and it was now gone forever. Classifying the child as an "it" made it easier to cope with the loss. No matter what her mind told her, her heart had taken quite the blow when she had heard those words pass through Greg's perfect lips. A pain that most women in her position go through.

Haphazardly throwing the covers off of herself Jessica placed both of her bare feet on the cold milk colored tiled floor of the room. With little to no effort Jessica pushed off of the bed and stood. It was much easier than she had anticipated. Now, all she had to do was walk out of the room. The hardest part of all. Somehow, she knew she was going to manage it. Slowly, placing one foot in front of the other she walked out of the room without looking back.

All too quickly she made it to the one room she knew everyone resided in, the Rec Room. And there they all were, sitting around the rounded table playing games or reading a book. The one person she wanted to see happened to not be there much to her dismay. Joker must have been in one of his "therapy sessions" with Reece. There was nothing more Jessica wanted than to ball up her fist and give him the hardest hit she could muster. Unfortunately he was not there and she was left do nothing but wait for him with the others.

"Hey," Ivy gently called to the young woman as she sat down in one of the empty chairs surrounding the table. "Feeling better?"

Jessica smiled ironically. "Considering all that's happened, yeah, I feel good."

"Glad to see that you're back to normal," commented Crane. He had held much dislike for Jessica while she was on the drug. She had an annoying quality about her that he could not stand. He never did like children.

Yes. Everything was back to the way it should have been. Jessica was off the drugs and back on her birth control. It had been made obvious to all, even the more respectable doctors of Arkham, that she needed to take it. Another thing that had been made obvious was that security had become lax since Reece took the reigns of leading the hospital. Some had decided it was time for a change in leadership though the woman had only been head of the hospital for a short period of time.

With those facts and Greg threatening to sue the hospital the board would have no choice but to fire the woman. The men would have no qualms with that considering they had believed her to be unfit for the posistion in the first place. Though Reece had fought tooth and nail to get that posistion, she was soon going to lose it. The only person she had to blame was herself, but she would not see it that way. Her ego and personality would not allow it. To her, she was the greatest gift to the planet and could do no wrong. Instead, she would place the blame on Jessica who would gladly accept it with a smile, anything to piss off that woman.

An hour passed by since Jessica had arrived in the room. Crane and Riddler, she had finally learned what people called him, were playing a game of chess and Mad Hatter was reading a book. Several minutes before Ivy and Croc had left the room for some alone time, everyone knew what that meant. A twinge of jealousy had pulled at Jessica's emotions as she watched the couple leave the room. Though she did not want to feel it, it could not be helped. She had had an emotional tie to Croc and could not help but feel a little upset that he could get over her so fast. But who was she to talk? Had she not jumped into the arms of two other men as soon as they opened them? Greg's intentions toward her had been quite different than what Joker had planned for her, but she did it all the same.

Jessica pushed her envy away feeling she had no right to the emotion. It upset her to know that she could be so selfish. Croc had every right to do whatever to whomever he chose. She could not dictate that. Such feelings were petty and to feel them would just bring her down to Reece's level. That was a place she did not want to go. Being like that woman would taint her soul even more than it already was. A burning hatred was held deep within her for that woman and she did not want to give herself even more reason to hate herself.

Bored out of her mind and tired of just sitting and watching Crane and Riddler play chess Jessica decided it was time to do something. "I'm going for a walk," she announced to the table while standing.

With excitement in his eyes Riddler stood up. "I'll go with you." It was not an offer. Even if it had been and she refused he would still tag along. Crane scoffed at the man. Eyes narrowing to slits Riddler reeled on him. "Find something funny, _Scarecrow_?" he spat at the man.

"Yes, I do," Crane stated a cocky smile on his face. "The idea of you walking is just about as ridiculous as the information you bombard us with each and every day."

If there was one thing Jessica could not stand it was watching someone being degraded. Years of her life had been spent with the harsh words of others who looked down upon her. When Riddler's eyes flickered with the hurt she knew all too well she felt the urge to stick up for the man, as she had done with Mad Hatter. "I would love the company. I don't see any problem with it at all." As sweetly as she could Jessica smiled at Riddler. Silent gratitude appeared in the form of a smile from Riddler.

As they started to walk Jessica saw the reason for Crane's atrocious words. There was a slight limp in Riddler's step. It made the going slow, but Jessica did not mind. With nothing else to do even a slow walk would not make her turn around. All it did was make her curious as to why he had to walk in such a way. So curious, she questioned him about it.

Riddler's brown eyes shifted in their sockets nervously making it clear that he really did not want to talk about it. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Jessica told the man.

He sighed in relief, but decided to tell her anyways considering how nice she had been. "Abusive father," was the only answer that he gave her and it sated her curiosity. All too well Jessica understood abuse. She had lived with it for five years, not including the verbal abuse her father had bestowed upon her in his besotted state.

Though the man had apologized for what he had done Jessica still could not find it in her heart to forgive him. She may have verbally stated that she forgave him, but they were just word, desolate and empty as the desert was when the sun was high. For an odd reason words seemed to make people feel better even if they are nothing but lies. A little lie went much further than the truth, Jessica had come to discover. Strange how most want the truth but preach nothing but false hopes to the world.

Uncomfortable with the topic they were on, Jessica quickly changed it. "How did you end up here?"

"Interesting," Riddler mumbled to himself, but Jessica heard it all the same.

"What's 'interesting'?"

"The fact that you changed the subject. Most people would ask just how my father abused me and what exactly had caused my small deformity, but you did not. Instead, you changed the subject leading me to believe that you yourself were abused."

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't," Jessica replied stiffly.

A smile appeared on Riddler's face, joy that he had figured out part of the girl's history. Jessica had been a little offset when he had first met her but it led him to want to figure her out. The others would not delve into her story piquing his interest even more. She was a puzzle to him and he loved puzzles. Though only a few pieces of the puzzle had been linked together he would figure the rest out soon enough. Once every piece was together the entire layout of her would bring him much satisfaction at solving yet another puzzle.

"Dodging the statement as you had just proves my theory. Not to mention the other signs that you have unknowingly gave me." And she had given him plenty of signs. An inquiring eyebrow raised high on Jessica's forehead. She really wanted to know what signs he was speaking of. So, Riddler informed her of them. "Your eyes dart back and forth constantly as if seeking out any ill intent someone holds for you. The distance you keep from me is half of my reach so that you don't seem impolite as well as so you can jump away from me to get out of my reach. The reason for your clumsiness is the way you walk. You walk stiffly ready for any blow that you think will come at any moment. I have never seen you relax, even when you were on that drug of yours, except when you play the piano. It seems the only time that you let everything go."

"Anything else?" Jessica's tone was sharp and biting.

"Yes. When someone passes us you make sure to watch their every moments. If one even raises their hand to scratch their head you flinch."

"You know," started Jessica, "when I said 'anything else' I really didn't mean for you to continue."

Riddler sighed heavily. "I know it's just a compulsion I have."

Before Jessica could comment on the matter shouting was heard from several doors up from where they were positioned. The commotion caused them to stop and see what was about to transpire. Human curiosity was such a troubling thing. Instead of turning back and ignoring what was going on, they drew closer, trying to make out the words that were being shouted.

Once they were close enough, the shouting grew more distinct but they still could not understand what was being said. Then, suddenly Joker burst through the door giggling madly. Spotting Jessica he quickly came behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Confused Jessica just stood there having no inkling as to what was happening. "Sshh," he whispered in her ear. "The Flower is mad."

That is when Reece made her entrance, or exit out of the door. She was in a disheveled state. Golden hair was ruffled and ragged looking, her clothes were wrinkled, but her silver eyes shown brightly with anger. Seeing Joker with his arms wrapped around Jessica made them glow all the brighter. "You!" she seethed pointing her index finger at Jessica. "This is all _your_ fault!"

Turning around to face the man, Jessica's eyes narrowed as she asked, "What did you do?" Joker just shrugged as if he did not know the answer to that question.

"He moaned your name!" Reece shouted indignantly catching the attention of all around her, including passing orderlies and nurses.

Jessica burst into a fit of laughter. She just could not help it. Biting her lower lip to stop the fit of giggles she turned to face Reece. When she faced the woman the laughter quickly ensued once again. This was just too much. Too priceless. Reece would never come to realize her own stupidity. Joker was just fucking with her. Trying to upset her to see her reaction. All she was doing was playing perfectly into the hands he had dealt her. Jessica should know she had done the same exact thing once upon a time.

With Reece still trying to bore a hole into her head, Jessica left freeing herself from Joker's grasp. She had to get away from those people, if not she was surely going to die of laughter. The only place she could think to go where she could laugh uncontrollably was her room. A hand held on her side from the pain she made her way to that very place giggling madly.

When she reached the door to her room, which was shut for some odd reason, Jessica closed her hand around the knob almost devouring the thing. Giving it a little twist and push she opened the door. "Jesus fucking Christ!" screamed Jessica slamming the door closed. What she had saw had been horrible. Croc sitting half naked on her bed with Ivy on her knees. That was not something she had wanted to walk in on. She may have been a prostitute and used to seeing such things, but it still made her highly uncomfortable.

Then realization dawned upon her. That had been _her_ bed. Her fucking bed! Now she knew that had been a frontal attack from Ivy. Little bits and pieces of Ivy's actions against her slowly replayed themselves in her mind as if staring at them on a strip of film. Short choppy scenes. Jessica had some knowledge that the red headed woman did not like her, but to do such a thing was horrendous and evil, not to mention a bit creepy. God, how stupid she had been! To think that the woman actually liked her. Maybe Ivy did somewhat, but it did not show at that moment.

Storming away in a random direction Jessica got as far from the room as she could within the confines of the asylum. Little did she know that Joker was slowly creeping behind her having left a screaming Reece just to follow her. Poor Riddler had been abandoned by both and was forced to stay with the woman when yanked him inside of her office.

Curiosity tugged at Joker's brain as he passed the door that Jessica had slammed. He decided to sate the emotion; he was still only human after all. Opening the door he burst into a fit of giggles. Croc was now standing trying to pull up his pants while Ivy was still on her knees. "You know," Joker started after the giggles had resided, licking his lips, "that's Snow White's bed, Ivy?" Momentarily he waited for a response. "Oh, don't want to talk with your mouth full?" Screeching with laughter he slammed the door shut and then preceded in the direction Jessica had headed in, humming off key the entire way.

As Joker was humming Jessica was walking down a flight of stairs. Reaching the bottom she continued onward into a dark and dismal hallway. Not a speck of light filtered through where she was. Even the light from the steps she had just traversed down seemed to be swallowed by the all consuming darkness. So dark her eyes could not adjust to it, but she continued on none the less. Hatred and rage forced her onwards though a small sick feeling that could only be fear gathered at the bottom of her stomach.

Laughter that could only be described at utterly insane bounced around the dark passageway. Screams of pain and horror filled was little void that the laughter could not cover on its own. Her heart pounded erratically as incoherent whispers assaulted her ears. The mixture of sounds would drive even the sanest to the point of madness. Stopping dead in her tracks she readied herself to turn around but a voice calling to her made her hesitate. "I see you," it whispered to her through the darkness.

Jessica's heart stilled as her body had done. Every fiber of her being was telling her to run, but the control she had over her muscles had left her. All she could do was stand there and shiver uncontrollably. A hand brushed her hair and she yelped as if it had burned her twirling around. Now, in the black void, she had lost all sense of direction. Even if she had found the ability to run she would not know which direction to take.

The very same hand found her face and slowly traveled down to her waist. Large and callused it was telling her it belonged to a male. "You're so pretty," he hissed in his slime covered voice. "You're like an angel. God must have sent you to me. I must have not fallen from his grace."

His hand slowly traveled back up. When it met the back of her neck she was roughly pulled forward. Jessica's small frame came into contact with the only thing separating her from him. Cold metal bars pushed into her flesh as he continued to pull as he tried to make her go through the bars. When she did not pass through them as he had expected she would he grew distressed.

"Why won't you come to me?!" he screamed at her in a near panic. "Why?!" Silence grew heavy between the two. Jessica was so frightened even tears would not form. When he chuckled darkly they finally did come in great streams. "I see," he whispered. "I see what you are. You were sent by the Devil. You're my temptation to sin. I will not fall for such a thing, you evil temptress." His thumb gently brushed her cheek. "This poor girl. How horrible of you to choose her as your vessel. I will save her so that you will never touch her again. I will send her to our Lord and Savior. He will protect her from you."

His hands came together around her throat and squeezed tightly. Instinctively Jessica's much smaller hands wrapped around his wrist, squeezing them tightly in hope that he would let go. It was to no avail. No matter what she tried, hitting him, pushing him, nothing worked. He just continued to slowly squeeze the life out of her.

All too soon she slipped into her own darkness. The darkness of unconsciousness. The pain left her as her hands went limp at her side. He continued to squeeze still feeling her pulse on his palms. It was starting to slow drastically and he knew she was almost gone. An unpleasant smile formed on his face knowing he was doing the right thing. Soon she would be fully healed of the demon inside of her and join the other angels in heaven where she should have resided in the first place. This world was not a place for angels. It was dark and twisted full of sin. There she would be unscathed by such evil things.

When a hand grabbed his wrist he nearly dropped the poor girl to the floor. "Let her go," it hissed evilly at him. He knew that voice all too well. The voice of the Devil himself. Late at night, or what he thought was night, the Demon King himself would come and visit him in the form of a man with face painted like a clown. Whispering words of evil through the bars causing him to scream endlessly and harm himself just to make him stop. It only enticed the man even more and the man would laugh mockingly at him.

Many times he had tried to physically assault the man. Many times he had failed because of the bars he was held in. All the man had to do was step back a few steps and he was no longer in reach. It frustrated him to no end. Another soul he could heal was just out of his reach unlike the one in his arms now. That is why he dubbed himself the Healer, because he, and he alone, could heal those the demons had took possession of.

"I'm going to heal her," the Healer insisted tightening his grip on Jessica's neck. Already her pulse was hardly nonexistent. Then something clicked in his brain and it started to work in high gear. The Devil never cared about his subordinates before. He had always just let him kill them without a word of protest. Now, he was stopping him, but why? Why would he do such a thing?

It was a trick, his mind insisted. Satan did not want him to let go but kill her. She really was an angel! God had sent her there for him to protect her, not kill her. That is why she would not slide through the bars. It was another test sent by God. If he killed her it would be a sin against the one who judged all.

With that realization he let her go. Jessica's all too limp body fell to the floor. The Healer watched as the Devil picked her up and carelessly threw her over his should. "No!" he bellowed loudly enough to overshadow the laughter and screams of the other inmates. "You can't have her! She's mine!"

Joker cackled madly. What a game he had just played. Normally, he would have just let the man kill Jessica, but seeing the opportunity to mess with an already demented mind he could no let it pass. Spending much time with "the Healer", as he liked to call himself, he knew the man's personality very well. Most of his nights, he was aloud to roam freely when the other patients were asleep, were spent torturing the man. He had known by trying to stop the man that he would see it as him, the Devil, trying to actually get the man to kill her. Walking off with her would do even more damage. It had all been too much fun for him.

Still cackling, the Healer's shouts barely a whisper now, he walked up the steps. The harsh lightening of the hospital forced him to squint. Once they adjusted themselves he decided where to take Jessica. He could not possibly take her to her own room considering what he and she had just walked in on moments ago.

While deciding on where to take her another thought crossed his mind. Snow White was now just one person. The weak minded simpleton he had met before. Another opportunity had presented itself. He could once again toy with her mind. Take it to places he had not taken it before. The thought, also, made his decision on where to take her. His room.

Over the past few days Joker had become quite bored with his new toy Reece. She proved to be too predictable and everything she had tried to accomplish in getting rid of the one person she saw as an obstacle had ended in complete failure. Snow White just seemed to have the ability to thwart any plans against her. Maybe it was just luck.

But her luck had just worn out now that Joker had new plans for her.


	29. Heartache

Jessica awoke with a start quickly sitting up on the bed. A scream would have been heard if her throat had not been so sore. Gently as possible her fingertips brushed it causing her to wince. With slow movements she got off the bed and gazed about her. The normal white walls shown brightly with the florescent lighting of the room hurting her freshly opened eyes. The bed on which she had just gotten off of was the only one in the room letting her know it was not her room. Not that she minded that one bit. On the contrary, she doubted she could ever enter that room again after witnessing what she had.

Sighing, which made her cough lightly, she sat back down on the bed not knowing what else to do. Many questions piled high in her brain like an unsteady stack of books just waiting to topple over and out of her mouth. The main one was just who had saved her? As far as she was concerned no one had knew where she went. She had left Riddler and Joker with Reece and she presumed that was where they stayed. Crane and Mad Hatter had still been located in the Rec Room and Ivy and Croc had been a little preoccupied. She knew it had not been an orderly or she would have been taken to the medical wing and not sitting in a strange room.

The door flew open, slamming against the padded walls with a _thunk_, and in its wake stood Joker. A bright smile was placed on his blood red painted lips. It was the largest Jessica had ever witnessed from the man and it sent her on high alert. He was up to something; she could feel it in her bones. Her eyes narrowed at him with the suspicion she felt. "What are you planning?" she hastily asked him her voice harsh from the attempted strangulation she had previously experienced.

Slightly taken aback, not that he would show it, at her figuring out something so quickly, Joker stared at her with his head tilted to the side. He wondered briefly as to what could have given him away. Smacking his lips together he replied, "What makes you think I was 'planning'," he place air quotes around the word, "anything?"

"Just call it a hunch."

Well, there went his plans. It appeared Jessica was smarter than he gave her credit for. Too bad, it would have been very entertaining and passed the time by very nicely. She could be such a party pooper. Looks like he would have to find something else to spend his time on.

Jessica heard him distinctly mutter the words "party pooper" under his breath. "I knew it!" she screamed sending her into a fit of harsh chest rattling coughs.

Clicking his tongue Joker rolled his eyes at her own stupidity. She could figure out that he was planning (he hated that word) something but she could not think to not use her vocals so harshly after being choked. Such a silly girl she was. "Poor, poor, Princess, did you get hurt?"

"I told you not to call me that," she managed between coughs. Once the coughs receded she was left with a dull ache in her chest.

Clicking his tongue Joker flopped on the bed, nearly hitting her in the process, and somehow managing to take up most of the space only leaving a small bit for her to sit on. "You're no fun," he pouted with pursed lips.

With a hoarse voice Jessica snapped, "If you want to have fun, go play with Reece."

"She's no fun anymore. In fact, she's rather dull. She's too pre-dict-a-ble," he pronounced the word as if it were foreign to him.

"Why don't you just get rid of her then? Like you did me," the last was said in a bitter whisper.

A smile full of mirth crossed Joker's face; with her back turned toward him Jessica could not see it. It would appear she was still a little sore about the whole ordeal. Her bitterness and resentment only meant one thing to him. He could still somehow manage to get at her. To crawl under her skin like an insect and gnaw on her insides, mainly her mind. So, he could still have his fun with her, he would just have to go about it a little more cautiously than he had before. The old method he had used would no longer work her having experienced it before. No, he was going to have to go for a more indirect approach. Fine by him, he would still have his fun regardless.

An epiphany struck him and he sat up on the bed nearly bouncing up and down with joy. There was still one method that could work against her. To take the indirect root he was going to kill two birds with one stone. Toy with Jessica's mind and the Healer's as well. In his fit of joy he knocked Jessica off the bed with a hard kick in the back so that he could stand, her body lying between his feet. "Up we go!" he nearly screamed at her pulling her roughly up by her right arm.

"What the fuck?!" demanded Jessica as she rubbed her now sore back.

A loud cackle erupted from Joker as her mercilessly tugged on her arm and dragged her out of the room as like a tugboat pulls a stranded ship. It was only after they were out of the room and traversing down the hall that he decided to tell her half of the game he wanted to play. "We're going to play with Healer," he excitedly told her.

"Who the _fuck_ is that?!"

Clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes Joker responded, "The man that just tried to kill you." Upon hearing the answer Jessica's mouth formed the little 'o' of understanding. With the prospect of just how much fun he was going to have he nearly squealed in joy. Finding it hard, he held it back nearly biting his tongue clean off. Instead small giggled escaped him, muffled with him keeping his blood red painted lips tightly closed.

The thought of having to go back down into the never-ending darkness made Jessica a little apprehensive. Going near the man that had what seemed like moments ago to her who had tried to kill her made that feeling even stronger. Lacking the physical strength to stop Joker she did nothing but let him lead her to through the corridors to the ominous flight of steps. Once they were in surround by the dismal darkness Jessica moved from being dragged by the man to clinging to him desperately.

Fear of the dark was encoded in human nature. It was in the DNA passed down from many generations tracing all the way back to the cave man era. The unknown was truly what was feared and the dark was filled with it. One could not see what was in it and so, they feared it with a strange awe-like manner. Anyone or anything could be hiding in such darkness just waiting for a chance to sneak up on an unsuspecting victim. Ready to attack at any given moment. Hunting what they thought they had ever right to.

Jessica was all too used to being the victim. It made her cautious to such things and avoiding the dark was one caution she took extra precautions to do so. She may have been used to the black void while living in the Narrows, but that did not mean that she liked it. It still frightened her to no end. Her heart raced, breath caught in her throat, and her body trembled violently as if it was the dead of winter and she walked out with no coat on.

"Aw, is Snow White scared?" Joker taunted.

Jessica dug her nails deep into his arm until she felt them push through a trickle of warm blood hit her finger tips. "Oh yes, very scared," she answered with teeth gritted to the point of near cracking.

A low thunderous growl cut across the darkness like a knife and Joker stopped. Near in a state of panic Jessica stood still having no other option open to her. The growl grew closer accompanied by the sound of quick footsteps. When a set of fingers tips brushed her face Jessica's heart jumped to her throat, choking her like the man caged before her had done before.

"Give her back!" the Healer cried. There was no mistaking his voice for any other. It would forever be imprinted on Jessica's memory as would the feeling of his strong hands around her neck. "How dare you touch an angel with your evil tainted hands, Lucifer!"

As Joker cackled Jessica gripped him even tighter. The fact that the man behind the bars was a religious nut scared her even more then his attempted murder on her person. Many times during her stay in the Narrows religious fanatics would knock on her door preaching the word of God and throwing Bibles in her face, once literally. They would come in their freshly ironed suites or dresses looking down on her calling her every foul name they could think of. The word repent would leave their mouths multiple times after each dirty name they called her. Once Croc had answered the door they stopped coming to the building believing him to be a demon. It did not help that Croc had splashed an entire bottle of ketchup on himself and worked up saliva in his mouth causing him to drool. Jessica had laughed the hardest that day she had in a long time. That was the best waste of ketchup Jessica had ever had the privilege to witness.

"She's mine now," boldly Joker stated almost causing Jessica to scoff. He was playing a game with the man and a scoff would ruin it. With that knowledge, and the knowledge that Joker had a horrible temper, she held it back. The man had not harmed her before, physically at least, and she did not want to give him cause to do so then.

While Jessica still clung to him Joker continued his speech. "Why would she want you, hm?" he teasingly asked the man. "You tried to kill her. I saved her from you and she's _very_ grateful." The arm Jessica had been clinging to was wrapped around her pulling her close to the attached body. Instinctively she snaked her arms around him afraid that if she let him go even for a second he would leave her alone in the pitch black and she would never find her way out again. "Do you want to see how grateful she is?"

The Healer did not reply. Just whimpered as he watched the painted face of the Devil lower his head until his lips captured the much smaller ones of the Angel. The pale angel let out a moan and eagerly returned the kiss. No, no, no, _no_. That is not what was supposed to be happening! She was supposed to reject the man. Refuse him. Instead, she was wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her. How could she do such a thing? Let such a creature touch her! It was blasphemy!

Oh, what a sight he was seeing! To have such eyes accustomed to such darkness. How much he wished they were the same as when he had been nothing more than fresh meat from the fridge. If only he could go back to that never seeing state he had once been in. Gouging his eyes out would have been the perfect solution but the Healer could do no such thing. How could he save all those poor souls if he could not see them? Watching the horrific scene before him was the only option he had. But he must watch for it was his punishment that God saw fit for him. His punishment for harming the gift his Lord had sent him.

Weeping seemed the appropriate thing to do. And weep he did. He wept as he watched the Devil used his slimy tongue to lick a trail down her neck only to lock his jaw tightly on the flesh at the crook of her neck. Her cry of pleasure hit him harder than the actions of the man. The sweet smell of her blood assaulted his nose and hung heavily in the air like an early morning fog. The grip the Healer had on the bars intensified as a shiver of delight coursed though him.

Cries and screams of the other patients locked in their own cells cut across the silence killing it easily. The all too feminine smell mixed with blood wafted through the hall and into their cells taunting them. It drove them to a primal state wanting nothing to sate their own urges but their cages were strong and held them in place. The sound of bone crunching against concrete faintly echoed in the darkness as the smell drove some of them to harm themselves in their attempt to free themselves by any means. Animalistic howls and cries came into the mix when the Devil started to remove Angel's clothing.

It was worse on the Healer with the pair standing right before his cell. The smell, so strong he could taste it, washed over him in thick unrelenting waves driving him deeper into the insanity he had already reached. Knowing it to be a sin he refused to the urge to pleasure himself though his body screamed at him to do so. Only a woman was supposed to provide such pleasure and only after she was his wife. He was doing all he could to resist the temptation but it was becoming stronger with each passing second.

The Devil, Lucifer, the Lord of the Flies, forced the Angel onto her hands and knees. She lowered the upper half of her body to the ground, her left cheek resting against the cold cement floor, presenting herself even more to the man. Her eyes scanned the darkness and seemed to lock onto the eyes of the Healer. With her looking at him, though she could see nothing, his will was broken. He could no longer resist the need that had risen in his body.

With an ease Jessica thought not possible Joker slid inside of her. Gripping her hips tightly he pulled her closer pushing himself deeper within her. Already, Jessica was clawing at the concrete ground her fingers so close to her face she could hear the sound of her nails scraping at it. It had been all too long since she felt such a sensation. The sensation of long scraggily nails biting into the sensitive flesh of her hips and he knees scraping the ground Joker thrust in and out of her with a violent harsh pace.

Far too long it had been for her. So long, that she had not been able to refuse the man. Just the kiss alone had left her with the inability to think of anything or _anyone_ else. All thoughts were on the man mercilessly pounding her from behind. Her knees scraping against the cold concrete floor cutting them open. It was the same for her elbows and she had a feeling her cheek was getting the same treatment.

Feeling her body come hastily to a climax Jessica bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. Like that mattered. With the howls of the other patients adding in her own music would do make no difference. The sound would just be another instrument added to the cacophony of cries in the messed up symphony that had ensued.

Little by little Joker reached his own peak. When he could no longer contain himself, he trust deep within the girl spilling his seed inside of her. Panting he shook himself like a dog sweat flinging in all directions. Pulling out of Jessica he stood replacing his pants back to the position they were meant to be in, leaving Jessica alone to feel for her clothes in the dark.

The strangled cries of the Healer reached his ears. A sound that thrilled him more than anything he had ever experienced before. "I have sinned," the man cried repeating the three words over and over again in an almost hysterical manner.

After finding her clothes Jessica dressed herself quickly trying to block out the sound of the Healer's pain. It hurt her as well for reasons unknown to her. Tore at her heart as if the beating muscle was made of nothing more than paper. "I want to go now," she harshly insisted to Joker barely above a whisper. Her voice was nearly drowned out by all the screams of the patients hidden deep within the all consuming darkness. It seemed now that they had started, they could not stop. The noises they made her feel ill and she could not stand the sounds of them any longer.

Giggling madly Joker led her out of the lower level and into the light. Not ready for such a change of lighting Jessica's eyes felt as if they were burning. A small noise, resembling the yelp of a dog, fell from her mouth.

Clicking his tongue in disapproval Joker led her to the shower room. After what had just transpired she needed one and badly. Dirt and grime covered the left side of her face and his makeup on the right. Knowing the makeup on his own face was smeared did little to bother him. He could always go fix it up if he ever felt the need to. Jessica, on the other hand, would mind that there were still traces of him on her body and would want to remove all evidence as quickly as possible. She was, after all, the shiest prostitute to ever roam the streets.

When she was shoved into the shower room and under a random shower head Jessica was both grateful and surprised. Surprise was the stronger of the two emotions. How he was able to think of such a thing was beyond her. Joker was not the type of man that thought of the feelings of others. The fact that he had left to bring her a fresh pair of clothes and a towel amazed her even more. She did not know whether to thank him or inquire as to what was wrong with him. Instead she gawked openly at the man, watching his back as he left her alone to shower.

The shower was very nice. Dubbed the best one she had had in a long time. With warm water cascading down her back in streams relaxation took over her taut muscles. Taking the time to clean herself to the utmost perfection she could manage her thoughts rolled over of the things that had happened that day.

The walk with Riddler had been nice up until the moment Reece and Joker had made their appearances. She had not learned much of the man but had learned a great deal of herself. More than she wanted to know. Was she really like that? So used to abuse that she looked for it in everyone that passed her by? Jessica very well knew the answer to that. Yes, she was. Having suffered years of such a thing had left a large imprint on her mind. Everyone was a threat, anything could be used to hurt her, and she was not strong enough to stop them.

It was true that she had gained some strength after her first encounter with Joker. But she did not take credit for that. The game that Joker played with her had made Big Sister reappear. She had offered Jessica her strength and as weak as she was, she gladly accepted it. Now, with her gone, she had no clue as to where she would regain that strength. It was true that Joker brought out some anger in her, but other emotions followed suit. Lust being the strongest of them all.

Love, loyalty, and obsession? Those were things she could not feel for the man. Fiery passion and lust she could. Some mistaken lust for love, but she knew the difference. Love was of the heart and not the body. What she felt for the man was of the body and only the body. There was only one man she could possibly feel love for. Greg. He was the only one that had earned the right to her heart.

In the midst of washing her hair the realization of what she had done hit her. The one thing she had sworn she would never do, but it had happened. She had betrayed Greg. The man that took care of her, visited her, and that she cared for most in the world. A man she could safely say that she loved. A love she had not knew she felt up until that moment now faced with the prospect that she would lose him.

Having felt such heartbreak before Greg had told her upfront that if she ever were to sleep with another man he would leave her. He was not going to be made a fool of again. His pride and heart would not be able to take another blow such as that again.

Rinsing her hair quickly, making sure that all the suds vanished from the mass, she shut off the water. Her hands shook violently with the quilt and anger she was feeling at that moment making it very hard for her to get dressed. When she was fully clothed she walked out of the bathroom and headed into the Rec Room not bothering to dry her hair. Jessica was all to ready to confront the man.

Joker had once again played her. Played her like a fiddle and she just knew all the right notes to hit. Once again he was toying with her emotions, yet he did so discretely. So discretely she had not come to realize it until it was already too late. He had used the one thing against her she could not resist. Sex. It was too much a part of her to refuse it from any man, even one such as he. By making her betray Greg Joker had done the one thing he had set out to do. Break her.

Break her as he had never done before. Only this time, instead of her mind, it was her heart. The one thing that shattered so easily, and hers did. Shattered into a million pieces falling into her open hand like rain did on a stormy day. The only difference was she was not able to catch the pieces. They slid between the spaces of her fingers as if they were sand.

Throwing the door to the Rec Room open Jessica stormed in and did the one thing others would never dream of doing. She got in Joker's face, her nose almost touching his. "You dirty slimy son of a bitch," she hissed in a lowered tone.

"What's the matter, Snow White?" he asked though he knew all to well what her problem was. "You seem a little, uh, upset."

"'What's the matter?!'" she nearly screamed backing up slightly. "You know what my fucking problem is."

Much to her annoyance Joker started to cackle uncontrollably. "What? Can't handle a little game? It seemed to me you were having a lot of, uh, _fun_ when we were playing it."

"Jessica, what's wrong?" Ivy asked voice laced with strong traces of concern. When the younger woman's head reeled toward her and their eyes met, Ivy knew she should have just kept her mouth shut. Jessica's gray orbs were filled with such hostility that it sent a shiver down Ivy's spine. Never had she seen such hate and malice in the girl's eyes before.

"Now that you ask, you're part of my problem." Jessica's dainty hands were placed on her hips. "I know you don't like me," she started, "and I don't really care if you do. But your little discrete attacks against me are not found wanting. If you don't like me, just tell me. You don't have to go behind my back and suck off Croc on the bed you knew was mine. Stuff like is just petty and says more about you then it does me."

At that point, Jessica had had enough. She was sick and tired of being pushed around, of being made into someone that was sickeningly weak. From that point forward, she was going to do something about it. She had finally worked up the nerve to fight back and it only took a little heartbreak to do so. "Any further hostility against me will only result in hostility from me," she announced to all that could be heard. "I'm sick of this shit and I'm sick of all of you! Now, if you would excuse me, I'm going to go off somewhere to be by myself. If any of you," she indicated to Joker, Ivy, and Croc with a sweeping motion of her hand, "comes near me I might just have to hurt you."

And with that being said Jessica left the room. "Hm," Crane started, "it seems to me Jessica needs a little time to cool down. Why don't we all just leave her alone for the time being?"

All others were in the same boat as him. It would be best for them to leave her alone. Too bad Joker did not feel the same way. With a skip in his step, Crane rolling his eyes at the man, he went in search of the girl. She was just too much fun at the moment to be left alone.


	30. Visitors and Cards

The next day came all too soon for Jessica. She had hoped that time would stand still so that she did not have to face the moment she would that day. Greg would be there that day, he had visited her every day since her fall down the stairs and that day would be no different. No matter how badly she did not want him to show at the same time, she wanted to get it over and done with. There was no beating around the bush for her; she was going to tell him what happened. If she had any hopes of him understanding, they flew out of her head faster than lightening traveled from cloud to cloud. There would be no understanding from him. He would leave her and she would never get to lay her eyes the face crafted to perfection.

Anticipating Greg's arrival Jessica sat in the Rec Room nearly banging her head against the table. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let a thing happen? All these questions and more filled her head to its capacity. They never relented and just piled one on top of the other like an unsteady stack of books ready to topple over at any given moment. What was worse was the knowledge that even after she talked to Greg those questions would still plague her along with some new ones. The "what ifs". What if she had not done what she did? Would Greg still be with her? Would they have been happy and lived out their days together?

All the answers would forever be unknown to her. She had not even talked to Greg yet, but she assumed that he would leave her. And why would he not? He had told her he would do such a thing. Greg was not the type of man to go back on his word, another thing his pride would not allow him to do.

Not a happy thought could come into her mind. Even when Joker came limping into the room a smile would not form on her face. When he had went in search for her he had found her in a random room hiding in a corner crying. Laughing he caught her attention. It all resulted in Jessica attacking the man with all she had, something he had not expected. She did not come out of the scuffle unscathed, but she did not receive the majority of bruises or blows. Joker laughing uncontrollably at her rage might have been a part of the reasoning for her winning the fight.

Groaning Jessica leaned her head against Mad Hatter's shoulder. He and Riddler were the only ones that dared to sit near her. The other, Joker included, had decided to get a different table across the room. "How could I have been so stupid?" she asked him for the dozenth time in the past hour.

"You were not stupid," this from Riddler. "You just let you animal urges take over. It happens. We are all animals, though we'd like to think otherwise, and must submit to those urges. If we did not submit to our sexual urges we would submit to others."

"Like what?" Jessica asked knowing the answers already him having told her numerous times before. Was it a sin just to ask a question to hear his voice? It was not her fault that she liked it. It was not the same as Greg's voice, smooth and comforting. Riddler's was more along the lines of cold and informative. But he did not talk down to her. Did not act as if she were stupid. Just answered her questions in that informative voice on his.

Before he could answer Mad Hatter interrupted. "He's here," he informed her with a flat dull tone.

"I think we should go," Riddler said a trace of panic in his words. "He's mad. I think someone already told him."

Sure enough when Jessica turned her head to look at Greg he was absolutely livid. It seemed he was having a hard time in containing the anger and was ready to burst. With the force of a sledgehammer Jessica's heart beat against her chest. Someone had told him before she could. She was confused about that prospect considering it had only happened the day before. As far as she was concerned, only she, Joker, and those she trusted, Hatter and Riddler, had any clue as to what truly happened between the two. Was she mistaken? Had someone other than the Healer seen them?

Before she knew it Greg was in front of her. With the coldest eyes she had ever seen on him he gazed down at her. No, looked down at her. His eyes told her that he thought her a lowly creature, that he hated her at that moment more than he had ever hated anyone. "I don't care who it was or why," he stated his voice cold and biting. "I don't ever want to see you again. I don't ever want to talk to you again."

When she opened her mouth to speak he turned and walked away. That hurt more than any harsh word he could have said to her. What pained her the most was that she did not get to say those three words that she had never said to any man before. Not being able to stand the sight of his retreating back she buried her face in her hands and sobbed harshly. Tear after tear streamed from her with unrelenting force. Never had she felt so much pain as she did at that moment.

Mad Hatter stood up from the seat he had taken at the other table next to Joker. "I hope you're proud of yourself," he hissed icily at the man. "You just caused the heartbreak of a very unstable woman. She's going to come after you now."

With a grin so large and mischievous even the Cheshire Cat would be jealous Joker glanced up at the man. "I look forward to it." Five plain simple words with nothing but truth to them. To him another game was just starting.

Clicking his tongue with disapproval Hatter went to the girl. When he was close enough he took her into his arms, forced her to stand, and led her away. Though she was in much pain, Jessica would be embarrassed about spilling her tears in front of the other patients. She would want privacy and he was going to take her somewhere where she could get just that. His room.

No one would dare bother her there and if they tried, he would just chase them away. Unfortunately before they could step two feet out of the door to the Rec Room, Reece cut them off. At seeing the girl's tears she had a smug look on her face. Hatter narrowed his eyes knowing the woman had been the one to tell Greg and ensue such pain in Jessica, who he thought of as a daughter. "Jessica," she started the smugness transferring to her words, "you have visitors. They are in the visitors lobby and would like to you badly."

"Who is it?" Hatter asked for the girl.

Reece's eyes turned cold when she looked to the man. "That is none of your concern!" she answered tartly. Gripping Jessica tightly by the upper arm she ripped the girl from his grasp. "Hurry up now!" Her tone was over demanding and impatient like a mother yelling at her child. "We don't want to keep them waiting."

With a vice like grip Reece dragged Jessica through the halls of the hospital still sobbing. Once they reached the visitor's room she practically threw the girl into the room ready to be rid of her. Gazing up with tears staining her cheeks Jessica looked to see who was visiting her. A man and a woman were next to each other seated in front of one of the many tables. Jessica had no clue as to who the couple was, but it seemed that they knew who she was by the way they stared at her expecting her to join them at the table.

Mustering all the courage that she could Jessica did just that. When she sat in the chair before them on the other side of the table the woman, tall, lanky and considerably older than Jessica, shifted uncomfortably while the man, who looked to be many years older, glared at her with an intensity Jessica had never seen before. Eyes red and puffy from her previous crying fit Jessica looked at the two waiting to hear what they had to say to her.

"You don't know us," the woman started and all Jessica could think was, _no_ _duh_, "but we know you pretty well. Well, not personally."

The man rolled his eyes at the timid woman. "You killed our son," he stated flatly. Jessica felt her heart give a shudder. So, the two people she was looking at were Andy's parents.

The woman looked up at her husband with terror filled eyes and then turned back to Jessica. "I-I just wanted to know why? Why did you do such a horrible thing?" Tears started to spill from the woman's eyes and her bottom lip quivered. Jessica almost felt bad for the woman, almost.

Glancing at both of them Jessica stated, "I had my reasons and I don't have to explain them to you."

"I think you do," the man stated tersely. "I think you owe us more then an explanation, I think you owe us an apology."

Jessica glowered at the man. A dislike for his tone and attitude toward her. He spoke to her as if she were a creature lower than himself. A tone she was all too used to given her position in life. Many she had met had talked to her in the same way. It was something she was growing sick of. Something that had to stop. The only was for that to happen, she knew, was if she made it stop on her own. "An apology," she spat. "I don't owe you a goddamn thing! If anything, you owe _me_," she indicated to herself jabbing her forefinger into her chest, "an apology for raising a prick for a son."

The man's eyes narrowed dangerously, trying to intimidate the younger woman. Jessica was having none of that and simply rolled her eyes at him, a gesture he did not take too kindly to. "You little cunt!" The insult echoed across the room and the orderly standing guard at the door visibly winced. "There was nothing wrong with _my_ son! It was you who was the problem."

Eyes widened in shock Jessica stared at the man incredulously. "Me?" she asked insulted. "Your son beat me, drugged me, _and_ raped me, and _I'm_ the problem? What fucked up planet did you come from?"

The woman sobbed. "How dare you say such things about my son? He was a good boy. He wouldn't do those things to you. He wouldn't even hurt a fly."

Jessica scoffed. "Really? He couldn't hurt a fly?" Standing up, she lifted up her shirt to reveal the long scar on her right side traveling from the bottom of her ribs all the way down to her hip. "Maybe he couldn't hurt a fly, but he sure as hell could hurt me." Tracing the scar with her forefinger she glared at the woman. "You know what he said to me after he did this. 'Look at what you made me do?'"

"Well," Andy's father began, "what did you do?"

In shock, Jessica's mouth hung open in a gaping hole. Gaining her composure she closed it and glared at the man. Now, she knew what he was all about, where Andy had gotten from. The way he talked to her, the way he looked down on her like she was a lowly creature, she hated it and hated him just as much as she had hated Andy. She wanted badly to wipe the smirk that was firmly planted on his face. "I don't know." Her voice was even as she could make it in her anger. "What could a fifteen year old girl drugged out of her mind do to deserve something like this?"

"Margret, go to the car," he demanded his wife. Without hesitation the woman stood up and did as she was told. "You too," he indicated to the lone orderly standing guard by the door, and he complied as well. Jessica figured that would happen. The man probably paid the orderly off. Money got people wanted in this world. She had no idea how much Andy's parents had, but she was sure whatever they paid the man would be sufficient enough to get what they wanted.

Lowering her shirt, Jessica glowered at the man as he started to move to his feet. When he took a step toward her, she took one back wanting to keep as much distance between them as possible. This process was repeated several times until he grew sick of the game and lunged at her. Jessica tried to make a run for it but was not quick enough. His large hand wrapped firmly around her upper arm and he gripped it so tightly she knew a bruise was already forming.

Struggling in his grasp she screamed, "Let me go, you prick faced cock sucking son of a bitch!"

The knuckles of his right hand met hard with her right cheek as he back handed her. If he had not been holding her she would have fallen to the floor. Instead, she was left in a dazed state. "What a filthy mouth you have. I guess that would be expected from a two-cent whore." Jessica spat on the man's face and mustered a "fuck you". Expecting him to hit her again she flinched when his hand raised to wipe the salvia off that was now running down his face. "That was disgusting," he chided her as one would do with a child.

"Go fuck yourself and your dead bastard of a son."

Andy's father chuckled mirthfully. "Andy always told me what a filthy mouth you have. Told me all the nasty things you could do with it as well. Why don't you get on your knees and show me?"

"Why don't you get on your knees and beg me, and then maybe I'll think about it."

Angry at her remark he gripped her hair tightly with his free hand and forced her to look up at him. Her storm gray eyes met his devilishly dark ones. "I don't see what he saw in you." His voice was low and dangerous sending chills up her spine. "How could _my_ son lower himself enough to love a _whore_?" He put enough sting on the last word that it made it feel as if he drove a knife in her chest. "And believe me, he did love you," the man stated in disgust. "I could tell by the way he would go to his mommy crying about how much you hated him and how he had hurt you. Then, you had to make things worse by choosing that _freak_ over him."

Jessica's eyes narrowed at the man. "Freak is an ugly word," she hissed.

"You only think that because you're one of them."

Loud clapping filled the room startling not only Jessica but Andy's father as well. "Nicely put," Joker's all too familiar voice. When relief washed over her Jessica became slightly disturbed. The fact that she would find comfort in the presence of the psychotic clown was not a good sign of mental health.

Andy's father turned his full attention to Joker, his hand still tangled in Jessica's dark brown mane. "I guess you're here to stop me or something?"

"No," Joker began shaking his head, "no. I'm just here to see the, uh, show." As if to prove his point he leaned heavily against the wall to the left of the door.

"Look at that," the man said to Jessica, "even the biggest freak of them all doesn't want to help you."

Anger boiled deep within the pit of Jessica's stomach. She really did _not_ like that word. Raising her leg in a quick sharp movement she kneed the man in the groin. When he doubled over, Jessica gave him a nice hard shoved sending him into the table. If looks could kill Jessica would have dropped dead with the heated glare he sent her. The retort to the look was a smirk from her and a kick to his ribcage. "Prick," she muttered under her breath and turned her back to the man walking away.

A large grin spread across Joker's face. "I just knew I would like the show!" he gleefully proclaimed.

Ignoring the man Jessica walked out of the room. The orderly that had been standing guard stood outside of the door and was pleasantly shocked to see her walk out unscathed. When Joker exited the room shortly after the orderly made sure to avert his eyes to the ground like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Joker frowned at his henchman. "You've been a bad boy, Mar-_k_," he put heavy emphasis on the "k" making a sound that resembled a whip cracking. "I'll just have to deal with you later."

Turning his back to the shamed man Joker traversed down the empty halls. Strange how quiet they were. Abnormal. The norm would have been nurses frantically running by, laughter spewing out of every door that he passed, and doctors leisurely making their way to their patients. But none of that was happening. There was only silence. The only thing he could hear was the flopping of his own bare feet as they hit the cold tiled floor as he shuffled forward.

Lost in his own thoughts of the abnormally quiet hall he ran into Jessica who had stopped walking. "Something's wrong," she stated in a whisper. Making a sharp left on her heels she entered the Rec Room.

Pushing open the swinging doors she came face to chest with a large orderly. Another stood next to him and both were looking down at her with indifference. From behind them Reece's sadistic smiling face appeared. She strutted from around the overly large male and stood in front of Jessica, her smile growing even larger and more malicious. Keeping her face as neutral as she could Jessica just stared up at the woman. "What do you want?" she asked the silver eyed woman keeping her voice even and clean of all emotions.

Reece just continued to smile that sadistic grin of hers never opening her mouth to speak. With a simple gesture of her right hand she ordered the two behemoths to grab Jessica. They obeyed all too willingly and gripped both of her arms bruisingly tight. "What the fuck is this?!" Jessica spat struggling within their grasp trying to get out but to no avail.

"This," Reece started causing Jessica to stop her struggling and meet the woman's eyes with a heated glare, "is me putting you in your rightful place. I, along with Arkham's board members, have decided that you are too dangerous to live amongst the other patients. You are to be immediately placed in a room in the lower levels amongst our more _prestigious_ patients." Leaning in closely she whispered in the younger woman's ear, "You're going to have a lot of fun where you're being placed, _Angel_."

Gray eyes growing wide with horror Jessica struggling ensued once more to a much more drastic level. She kicked, bit, and screamed but nothing came of it. Her fighting only seemed to enrage the men holding her. One of them, finally getting sick of it, hit her hard on the back of her head in the crook where spine met skull. Jessica's eyes fluttered, opening and closing rapidly, until they opened no more.

No longer needing two men, Reece signaled the one on the right away. The remaining man through the petite woman over his should as if she did not weigh more than a sack of potatoes and carried her off. Joker, still standing in the hallway, watched the man take her away with his head cocked to the side curiosity and confusion crossing his features. When Reece exited the room shortly after he come to a conclusion of what had happened.

Being the jealous woman that she was, Reece would have her competition removed in any manner possible. The direction the man had walked in, Joker inferred that she was being relocated to the lower levels. Jessica would be trapped in the utter darkness she so feared, most likely with the man that had attempted to "save" her.

Hm, this put a little damper to his game. Not that it mattered. He could easily work with it. All he had to do was change his direction a little bit. Just a little detour. Swiveling to the left he shuffled into the Rec Room lingering at the entrance. Making eye contact with the fivesome sitting at a round table he smiled mirthfully. "One week!" he announced before leaving the room and traveling to his own.

The others smiled knowingly at each other. Just one more week and they would all be out of that hell hole and back on the streets. One more week and they would be living "normal" lives once again. That is, if they played their cards right and everything went according to plan. But everyone knows that the dealers cheat and not everything goes according to plan.


	31. Ending in Death

Darkness surrounded her. The same all consuming darkness she had been haunted by for the past several days. It could have been several days. It could have been years for all Jessica knew. Without a sun or any means to tell time she did not know just how much had passed. All she knew was that she was trapped. Trapped in the pitch black with a maniac that had previously tried to kill her, but now would not dare let her out of his sights. She may not be able to see him, but he could see her. After spending years in that changeless darkness he had become accustomed to it and his body adapted all too well. Now, when the flashlight of the guards passed over their cell the Healer groaned as if her were in pain when it passed over his form. It made Jessica remember the horror stories with vampires and other creatures of the night he brother used to tell her when she was a child, trying to scar her out of her wits. She was seemingly living in one of those said stories now. There was no chance of escape for her. The rest of her natural life would be spent in this darkness with the new man of her nightmares.

The Healer had quickly taken Andy's place as the worst person she had ever met. His mood swings were inconsistent and she had to take care of what she did. Even the slightest of movements could set him off on one of his many rants and raves, him getting so worked up his hands found their way around her small throat squeezing it tightly until her eyes watered and bulged from their sockets in a comical, yet horrifying, way. Seconds later he would be apologizing profusely and kissing the tears from her eyes trying to comfort her by any means that was in his power. His actions did little to soothe her, just sent her more on edge waiting for the moment where he would no longer be so tender, which came more and more often.

If she stayed there any longer, Jessica knew it would be the death of her, literally. With each mood swing she came that much closer to death. He strangled her longer, pushed her harder, and hit her harder. To say she was frightened would be an understatement. She was scared shitless! It was becoming too much for her to bear, way too much. Tears fell from her eyes cascading like waterfalls at the very thought of her own demise. It would not be too much longer now. Any day now and he would lose all control of himself and kill her. She just prayed that it would be a quick and painless death, as if she ever gotten anything she prayed for.

It was at that very moment that she felt the very foundation of the building shake violently. The process of her thoughts first turned to earthquake. She physically shook that thought off. Gotham never had earthquakes. There was no continental fault near the city. From the feels of the violent tremors, it had to be nothing less than an explosion or something very heavy hitting the building at a very high speed. Small pieces of dusty debris fell onto her face and she coughed quietly, hoping not to wake the man next to her, his arms wrapped tightly and possessively around her waist. Even the slightest movement normally woke the man, but it seems it was her lucky day or night. He did not even stir when the building had shook and the tiny pieces of the ceiling fluttered onto his face.

That's when she felt it. The hot wet sticky substance soaking into her clothes. Having come into contact with this substance before she knew exactly what is was. Blood. The Healer was bleeding and her heat rejoiced to a new heightened level. Most would have been disturbed at the joy that she was currently feeling about a man bleeding to death or possibly already dead. Not Jessica. It was just proof to her that there was some kind of justice in the world, no matter how morbid it was. At that moment, the only thing that upset her was the fact that the blood was now soaking into her hair. As if that mattered, she had not been able to take a shower for a few days. Grime, sweat, and dirt were caked in her hair and on her skin as well. She had never wanted to take a shower more than at that very moment. The Healer had never given her time to search the room to see if there were any means of bathing herself. For however long she had been stuck in that cell with him he had stuck to her like glue and guided her wherever she wanted to go considering she could not see a damn thing.

Sitting up stiffly, her body terribly sore from one of the man's mood swings, she glanced about the room knowing she would not be able to see anything but trying nonetheless. When the light of a flashlight clicked on Jessica nearly screamed in fright. Having not expecting anyone to be there, it was quite the scare to find out that the bleeding man next to her was not the only one keeping her company. Her heart hammered in her chest and the blood roared in her ears. Shock overwrote the fear as an all too familiar cackle reverberated across the room. "Joker?" she asked barley above the whisper. Her voice was harsh and cracked from disuse.

Placing the flashlight under his chin, Joker grinned devilishly at Jessica. The angle of the light just made the smile all the more grotesque and the hideous bumpy scars all the more noticeable. His black rimmed eyes appeared to be sunken in giving him that starved maddened man appearance. It would have frightened anyone, but at that moment she was too happy to see him to be afraid. Wow, who would have thought she would actually be gladdened to see the demented clown, even in the twisted angle of light he had placed his face above. "Who else did you think it would be?" asked he, giggling at the absurd why she had said his name.

Removing the light from his face he shown it in hers. Jessica's face was alight with a silly grin and her joy of seeing the man was made evident. Even a blind man could have seen just how happy she was that it was him. Ah, she was such a fool, but that did not matter. She would still be useful to him and he planned to use her until she no longer was just that. When that time came he would just blow out her flame of the candle off life and find something else to occupy his free time with.

As quickly as she could she clambered off of the bed, nearly falling onto her face in the process, and squeezed his midsection tightly as soon as it was in reach. "God," she started, the smile on her face evident in her voice, "I never thought this would happen, but I'm actually happy to see _you_." Joker greatly disliked the emphasis that she put on "you". Was he really that horrible of a person that it was inconceivable that someone would be happy to see him? Scratch that, he knew the answer to that question. No one in their right mind would be glad to see him. Fortunately for him, Jessica was not in her right mind.

Jessica pulled away from the man and he wrapped a secure arm about her shoulder leading her out of the cell. When the small beam of light from the cylinder object Joker held in his hand flashed over the entrance to the cell Jessica could see that the door was wide open and the bodies of two orderlies lay on either side of it in a mangled state. For some morbidly twisted reason it made her feel special that he had killed three people for her. Made it seem to her that he felt she was worth something more than the cheap prostitute that she had once been. Greg had made her feel the same way (shush, Jessica, don't think about him, he's not with you anymore).

They reached the top of the steps and Jessica was momentarily blinded, her eyes now unaccustomed to the harsh lighting of the asylum. When they had finally adjusted her vision came to nothing but chaos. Patients were fighting each other along with the orderlies and some doctors. Blood was splashed across the pristine white walls and floor as if someone had taken a paintbrush and splashed the walls carelessly. The patients, orderlies, and doctors were not the only ones fighting. There were a few people with clown masks on the side of the crazies. Knowing them to be Joker's men Jessica said nothing and continued to let the man lead her.

Along the way they were stopped by a few of the men in clown masks who talked to Joker in a volume so low Jessica could not make them out over the shouts and screams of the people around her. It was clear that Joker was making his escape and he was taking her with him. That fact gladdened Jessica but set her on edge as well. With her past experience with the man, she did not trust him, but she had no one else to turn to or nowhere else to go. If she wanted out of the hospital, which she did more than words could describe, she would have to blindly follow him as she had done once before.

Several minutes later, due to the many halts because of the men talking to Joker, they made it into the true source of the fray. The Rec Room was overly crowded with bodies and appeared more like a mosh pit then a fight. Bodies were mashed together in the center of the room in positions most would find uncomfortable. Just on the outskirts of the fight were the five people Jessica had become accustomed to during the duration of her stay in Arkham. Ivy, Croc, Riddler, Crane, and Mad Hatter all watched the fight with smiles on their faces. Riddler was the first to take notice of the pair and hobbled over to them. When the other realized where he was going they followed suit.

A mischievous grin formed on Joker's face. "Looks like everything is going well," he stated in his high, but somehow still manly, voice of his. Riddler nodded in agreement turning to glance at the struggling bodies momentarily the left corner of his mouth uplifted in a small smirk. He was very pleased how everything worked out perfectly.

It had been all too easy to rile the patients up. It helped greatly that Crane had found a way into the pharmacy and switched all of their medications. With Joker's charisma and his ability to get what he wanted from people, they soon started to see things differently. They were enamored by the man and wanted nothing more than his praise. The only way to get that, they saw, was to kill the very people that had oppressed him in that ghastly place. The very same people that had oppressed them as well and forced them to take medication that made them living zombies. He was just like them. Outcasts of society because he was not considered "normal". Freaks they had called them. Had labeled them "crazies". But they were not crazy. They were just different. They just had different beliefs than what was considered normal. Saw and heard things that no one else could from worlds that only they had the privilege of seeing. They were not crazy, just different, better even. Gifts upon this dull Earth to give it a little spice and flavor. To make the world a little more interesting. No, people had it all wrong. They were the special ones. They were the ones that were meant to rule the world. The ones that should be out there instead of locked in the asylum.

Joker had said this to them all. Had given them the best speech he had ever given in his life (he thought). He had been so convincing that even Riddler felt stirred by his words. His chest had swelled and his heart raced. The muscles in his body tingled ready for a fight. That man, Joker, was unbelievable. Who could have ever thought that he would be able to give such a beautiful speech laced with such pretty words? He sure as hell didn't. But he had been proven wrong, something he normally did not take well with. He let it slide that time. Being proven wrong with something like that was something he could live with.

Basking in the glories of the chaos he had created Joker unknowingly pulled Jessica closer to him and she wrapped her arms tightly around his mid section. When he glanced down at her brown hued eyes he saw her inner turmoil struggling on her face. A sadistic smirk had formed on her face but her eyes were wide with terror. The smirk would disappear and then reappear repeatedly. She was confused on how she was supposed to respond to the violent riot that was happening before her storm gray eyes. She was satisfied yet sickened by the sight of it. There was so much blood from so many different sources. It was covering the floor in large puddles and people, in their rush, kept slipping on them smearing them. But the blood is not what was bothering her. It was the screams and shouts. She could never handle people yelling. Raised voices frightened her more than the prospect of death. In her mind yelling led to pain. Pain made one do and say things that they would never say just to stop the torture. Only the truly strong could handle such a method and Jessica was not one of those people. She had always succumbed to the pain. Had always gave in and given people what they wanted.

A little whimper left her mouth and Joker decided it was time to go. He hated when she cried! He was not the type for I-hate-seeing-you-cry-because-it-hurts-me. No, it made him want to kill her. Strangle her until she stopped, though that would only make it worse. Jessica was still proving to be entertaining and he did not want to cut his fun with her short. There was still so much he had in store for her. He was not about to let all the little things in his head go to waste just because she had decided to shed a few tears.

As they walked, Jessica still clinging to the man desperately, they were stopped a few more times by Joker's men and a few of the patients who nearly got on their knees in praise of the man. Some touched him as he passed and in avertedly touched Jessica as well. She flinched every time that a hand came into contact with her body. Though Joker's arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders, only one hand that comforted her. Riddler would brush his fingers lightly on her arm as he hobbled closely behind them trying to soothe her. The contact was much needed and appreciated. There was no sexual desire conveyed in his touch, just understanding. Being a victim of abuse as well, he knew how she felt as unwanted contact happened. As a child, he had always wanted a comforting touch after his father's anger had finally worn out and he left the small boy alone, bruised and broken on the floor. Jessica knew what he was trying to do and was very grateful for it.

The contact came to an abrupt end when they exited the establishment. Several yard away a brown van sat idling patiently. It had very few rust spots and there were no windows on the sides of it. A little apprehensive of entering such a vehicle set Jessica on edge. Well, entering any vehicle made the young woman uneasy. She just did not like them. Something about the quick moving things frightened her. Maybe it was the prospect that she could die so easily in them. But, then again, she could die anywhere. She did not know the reason for her fear, but it was there nonetheless, and she pulled away from Joker and started to lag behind.

Joker had figured she would do just that. Greg had informed him of her fear of automobiles a while ago. He just clicked his tongue in disapproval and rolled his eyes. For a man with no fears it was a ridiculous notion to be frightened of a car. Jessica was going to have to get over that fear if she wanted to get out of Arkham. If she took too long, he would leave her behind and feel nothing for it. Yes, he would like to keep her around just for her fun factor, but if she could not keep up she would get left behind. That's just the way it goes.

The group reached the van without a hitch and started to clamber in one by one. Jessica had peered around Croc and felt her heart drop in the pit of her stomach. In the large van there were only two seats, the driver's seat and the passenger seat next to it, which Joker had taken. She would have to sit on the floor with the others. That meant no seat belt. She liked having a seat belt. It gave her a sense of security. Faced with the prospect of having to slide around the floor, bumping into the others, while the man in behind the wheel drove erratically, somehow she knew that he would, nearly made her turn tail and run. But she held firm, swallowing her fear. She wanted freedom more and would face anything just to get it, even riding in a vehicle with no seat belt and nothing to hold onto.

The retort of a gunshot echoed across the vast expanse of Arkham's courtyard. Jessica's breath caught in her throat and froze there, strangling her. The others had stopped what they were doing as soon as the shot was heard. Ivy, Mad Hatter, and Crane had already seated themselves in the back of the van. Riddler had been trying to climb in with the help of Croc and both had turned to peer over Jessica's head to see where the sound had come from. Trying to do the same, Jessica realized that she could not control her body. It had gone numb and she still could not breathe.

What was wrong with her? Why could she not turn her head? Why won't her body move? All these questions assaulted her mind along with one more. Why couldn't she breathe? No matter how hard she tried to inhale something stopped her. It was as if something had clogged her throat and would not let the air flow in or out.

When she finally did find the ability to breathe a searing flash of pain tore through her body and a white streaked her vision. Croc called out her name, her birth name, and she looked at him. "I," she choked out, (think I've been shot) but could manage no more. The rest of her sentence was lost and only finished in her mind. It hurt too much to talk. The blinding pain just too much for her to bear. It was torturous and she would have screamed if she could find the ability to. Finally, her brain caught up to her body and it realized that it could not longer support her weight on her numbed legs.

When her body slumped forward Croc was there to catch her. He spotted the ever growing blood stain on her back and his mind reeled on what exactly he should do. It was not until Mr. Zsasz, a gun in his right hand, showed up that some coherent thought came to him. He gently lifted Jessica into his arms, minding her injury, and handed her off to Riddler who was now seated in the van as securely as he was going to get. The man set her in between his legs and she latched onto him as if by doing so he would keep death from claiming her.

Croc turned to Mr. Zsasz so abruptly that the man jumped. Seeing the maddened look in Croc's eyes, Zsasz turned to run. His attempt was futile and Croc, with his long reach, grabbed the back of his neck halting him in mid-step. Croc spun the man around and pulled him roughly to the van, slamming his head into the sliding door with enough force to kill. Sadly, the man didn't die but went limp as he fell unconscious.

Aggravated that his attempt to kill the man failed, Croc threw Mr. Zsasz limp form into the van. If Jessica died, so too would that man. Unfortunately for him, he would live through a lot more pain than she would. A simple gunshot wound would not be the death of that man. That would be too easy, Mr. Zsasz did not deserve easy. Croc climbed into the van and slammed the door closed behind him ordering the driver to go. The driver's eyebrows rose at Croc and he was ready to argue that Croc was not his boss, but thought better of it after taking in the man's size. He put the van into gear and started to head in the direction he was instructed to.

From the back of the van Crane started to crawl forward until he reached the front passenger seat. "What are we going to do about her?" he asked Joker indicating to Jessica's now shivering form. Joker turned to look at her and then shrugged his shoulders in response to the question. Crane sighed heavily. "She's going to die if we don't get her some medical attention." This earned him another shrug from Joker.

A few moments of silence passed between the pair before Joker decided to speak. "Doc will be at the hideout." That was all he said and all that needed to be said. Greg would help her no matter how pissed off he was. He still cared for her and did not want to see her die.

"What if she doesn't make it to the hideout?"

"Then she, uh, dies."

"You'll be losing your plaything," Crane enticed.

"I'll find another one."

After that Crane stopped talking. There was no use. It was obvious that Joker did not care about the young woman. He had been hoping that he would, just to have something to hold over the man's head, but he did not get what he wanted. Joker would never care for anyone, not even himself. Turning away from the man Crane made his way, on all fours, to Jessica. "Hey," he called lightly, "how are you doing?"

Jessica burst into laughter that was cut short by a fit of coughing. A spray of bright red blood painted Riddler's shirt and the male looked horrified at the sight of it. The bullet had clipped her lung and it was slowly filling up with blood. "Not too bad," Jessica jested. "Just dying is all. No biggy."

Crane laughed lightly trying to lighten her mood. "You're just overreacting. You're not going to die," he stated in a tone that he thought was firmly.

Jessica's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm not overreacting," she insisted though it was getting harder and harder for her to talk much less breathe. "I can feel it." Riddler shushed her and told her to save her breath. She looked up at him in annoyance, but complied nonetheless.

The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. No one knew what to say and even if they did, they would not know how to make if come out. The silence just seemed appropriate. They had almost reached their destination when Jessica's breathing started to slow drastically. She was not going to make it to the hideout. Everyone knew that and she did as well. When she felt the cold hands of death gripping tightly at her heart, she did not fight it off. There was no reason to fight it. She had accepted that she was going to die when she had first discovered that she had been shot. It was simply just her time to go.

Before her brain ceased to function she felt the beating of her heart stop. It hurt to feel her heart stop. The sensation was the single most physically painful thing she had ever felt. When her lungs stopped working, the pain grew. Her heart had stopped and on top of that she could no longer breathe. It felt as if she were drowning with a knife stuck in her chest. She was begging for her brain to hurry up and catch up with the rest of her already dead body. Praying for that release that did not seem to come. Closing her eyes she waited to slip into the darkness of death. When it did finally come she felt nothing.

Riddler was the first to know that she had passed considering that she had been clutching onto him. He had known it as soon as her hands had loosened their grip on his shirt. Glancing about the others morbidly depressed faces, he decided it best not to tell them. Let them still think that there was still a small hope that she would live. Who was he to stomp on their hopes? No one, that's who. He was just a "crazy" that had broken out of the asylum with a large group of other "crazies". People crazy enough to still believe that Jessica had had a chance. So, he kept his mouth shut until they reached their destination and still didn't say anything as he passed the girl off to someone else.

It was not until she reached Greg that they all knew she had died. The grave look on his face told them as much. He asked for them all to leave him alone and everyone complied without complaint, including Joker. Grief was a very troubling thing and something many knew about. It is an emotion that consumes the mind and, just like rage, made people do stupid things. It was best just to leave him alone. Leave him alone to wallow in his own misery. Besides, they have their own grief to deal with to be worrying about him.

Joker was the first to break the silence. "I'm leaving this city. I, uh, made up my mind on it a while ago. Let them get all comfortable and then come back when they least expect it. Come back with a bang!" With that being said he skipped to the room where Greg was in, humming a nameless tune. The others just looked back and forth at each other and decided to leave the hideout. No point in sticking around there. When Greg left the room they would no longer be welcome there. He would not want to see their faces. They could already tell that he blamed them for Jessica's death, Croc especially. The venomous glare he had sent the much larger man sent chill down Croc's spine. For the first time Croc had been afraid he was going to die.

That seemed to be the end of it all. Joker was leaving town so the city could breathe a little easier. The others would go into hiding until they felt that it was time to live freely once again. Greg would wallow in his misery. And Jessica was dead leaving her with nothing to do but rot in the ground. But that is how all stories end, with death. Death was the end of all things.

Or is it?

**Author's Note:**

Sadly, that is the end of _Freak is an Ugly Word_. I hope that all of you enjoyed it. I know that is not the ending most were hoping for, but that's how it's got to end. I hope that you have all enjoyed this story. I happen to be making another Joker story. No smut in this one, I don't think I'm very good at the whole smut thing. Get too wrapped up in the story. It just doesn't seem to work out for me. Let me know how you feel about the story as a whole. I would love to hear from all of my lovely readers. I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you so very much for helping this story stay alive and seeing it through to the ending.

There's something my mother used to always tell me (and still does) and I feel it fitting and appropriate at the moment, "They all die in the end."


End file.
